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vaokses · 4 months ago

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How long this love can hold its breath

Series Masterlist / General Masterlist

Pairing: Aegon x Rhaenyra's Daughter!Reader

Summary: It has been years since your mother took you from King's Landing to join her in Dragonstone. Years since you and Aegon have seen one another. Years in which he has refused, time and time again, to marry, even as you tour Westeros meeting suitors in search of a husband of your choosing. That refusal can easily be undone with a few words: it was you she chose, Aegon.

Word Count: 3.1k

Warnings: Alicent's abuse of Aegon. Alcohol/drunkenness. Mentions of sex/prostitution. Usual Targaryen incest stuff. Arranged marriage stuff. Angst. Hurt and kind of no comfort for now.

Some AU/Setting stuff: Reader is a bastard of Daemyra (claimed by Laenor of course), firstborn child of Rhaenyra and heir to her mother's claim. She rides Vermithor. As you'll figure out thorugh this one shot, she and Aegon had a thing when she was still in King's Landing. How relevant or impactful that 'thing' was depends on who of the two you ask. I've stretched the timeline a bit. Rhaenyra spent a few years more in King's Landing (making Aegon around 16/7 when she leaves, and the Reader, the eldest of the Velaryons, around 14/5). Instead of six years in Dragonstone, the Blacks have spent around three there in this story. Viserys still lives (and is rotting slightly slower), Aegon and Helaena did not marry.

A/N: My first work in this fandom, so i'm a bit nervous. This is a bit of a prologue/alternate PoV for a series I have in the works, but I wanted to share it as a one shot since I think it also works as one. I hope you like this!

Title is from the quote "I've hoarded your name in my mouth for months. My throat is a beehive pitched in the river. Look! Look how long this love can hold its breath." - Sierra DeMulder

It feels as if he has just rested his head on his pillow when he hears the heavy doors being pushed open, and the familiar hurried steps of his mother as she enters his apartments.

He isn’t sure why he bothers by now in telling the guards not to let her in, since she insists on overruling his orders whenever she wishes.

Still half-asleep, Aegon reaches for the bedsheet covering his body, wary of any attempt she might make in her anger to pull it off him. Surprisingly, his mother stops a few steps away from the foot of the bed.

Aegon feels her piercing gaze on him, and aware the choice is between caving and chasing after her, asking her what it is she wants; or waiting for the anger at his unwillingness to follow the unspoken command -and the thrown object, or the stinging hit, that comes after said anger-; he drags his hands over his face in an effort to wake himself further and asks,

“What is it, mother?”

“Where in the Father’s name were you? Three days, Aegon,” He winces at the reprimand. In his defense, he truly didn’t think they’d notice. Helaena would, perhaps, but she wouldn’t seek him out either way. “You were gone for three days.”

“I wasn’t…far. I didn’t even leave King’s Landing.”

She starts letting out a sigh, laced with disappointment and annoyance, but stops herself short, instead turning her back to him and pacing a few steps away.

“I know where it is you go to…to satiate your vices, caring not for the shame it brings to your name and mine, behaving most unlike your station.”

“Then why did you ask?”

His mother won’t turn to look at him, her back turned to him and her hands joined in front of her.

“Your sister was here.”

His brow furrows in confusion.

“My sister is always here.”

“Rhaenyra was here, Aegon.”

“Oh. What for?”

Alicent turns on her side, considers him with eyes widened in afront and mouth curled in disgust. The question leaves her lips slowly, a threat and a dare all at once.

“Are you still drunk?”

He mulls over the question for a few moments, and realizes his thoughts are entirely too calm for him to be already sober. The numb haziness of the night before remains, a comfort.

“I think I might be,” He admits, eyes darting to the side and lingering on the pitcher of wine on a nearby table. He wonders if it is empty. “Slightly.”

When it seems his mother is intent on merely staring at him in disappointment, he motions for her to turn away and gets dressed.

He can’t help but feel unseemly, standing before his mother in rumpled clothes and disheveled hair, while she stands tall with not a strand of hair out of order, not a speck of dust on her dress. Then again, even at his best he hasn’t managed not to feel small, unsuited, by comparison.

Instead of letting those thoughts linger, aided by the comfortable haze the wine from the previous night -or nights, rather- provides him with, Aegon moves to sit on a table in one of the darker parts of the room.

Alicent follows quietly, but she doesn’t sit.

“I come here with news. You are to be married, n-…”

He shakes his head with a mocking laugh, the defiance as easy as breathing, after four years of holding the same stance. He might not have a say in much, but he does in this.

“No, I’m not.”

“Your father has approved of this union. As have I.”

He shrugs his shoulders.

“Then you are welcome to marry her yourselves. I shall hope for a long and happy marriage for you three.”

Sometimes, perhaps in foolish hope, in some hollow fantasy, he thinks his impertinence amuses his mother. He might imagine it, he’s quite certain he does, but sometimes he swears she furrows her lips to hide the faintest of smiles.

But of course, she shows no give, betrays not a flicker of amusement, of softness, of anything. Try as he might to earn any of them.

“I did not come here to entertain insolence.”

“Why did you come here, mother?” He asks, not able to reign in the restless movements of his hands, fingers tapping an irregular rhythm on the table. “My stance hasn’t changed. And it won’t.”

The restlessness building within her is betrayed in the small movements of her hands that increase in intensity the longer she looks at him. With a sudden movement, she slams a hand on the table between them and leans closer.

“You cannot go on like this, Aegon, shrinking your duty because of the denial of a caprice of your youth.”

“It was the one thing I asked for. I haven’t asked for anything since, nor did I ask for anything before.”

His mother scoffs in response, looking away.

“And that is reason enough for your wish to be granted?” She asks, derisive, almost jeering. Alicent leans back, straightens her stance again. Not too unlike Aemond adjusting his posture to strike with his sword during training, he supposes. “You have gone through your entire life doing as you please, not considering the cost to your family, to your House, to me, and you expected to be rewarded?”

But he has considered the cost, has had no choice but to consider it, when every choice, every action, it seems almost every thought, is heavy with the impact it might have on his name, on his family. He has considered the cost, but try as he might no choice, no action, has been enough.

“It would have…It would have changed things. If you had said yes,” He argues, an argument repeated, in his head if not aloud, a thousand times over in these passing years. And yet restlessness builds within him regardless, and he finds himself grasping at the table to keep his hands from fidgeting. “It was the smart choice. You know father would have been for it. You could have kept Vermithor on our side, and given them no choice but to play by our rules with their daughter here. We might have won this war you want so b-…”

“All I have wanted is to make sure your lives are not forfeit when your father dies. It is not war I want.”

“Then why did you say no?”

She shakes her head as she looks away again.

“The matter is settled. Long settled.”

“Yet you never told me why.”

He wants to hear it. More than an apology for denying him a chance at happiness, more than an admission that beyond the feelings of any involved it was the smartest choice, more than anything, he wants to hear her tell him why.

She didn’t even hear his reasons, she didn’t even consider proposing the union to your mother, or Viserys. She dismissed him, and denied him, without even a second thought.

He wants to know the reason why. If it was because she knew of you something he didn’t, and was certain you would have rejected him even at the cost of your home and life as you knew it, he wants to know. If it was because she believes him so monstrous that she wished to protect even the daughter of her lifelong adversary from him, he wants to know.

If it was because in his weakness and his failings he has made himself into something even his own mother wishes to see punished, or because there was something he did -because it had to be something he did, there cannot be so many that were supposed to love him and refuse to for it not to be something he is doing wrong, something about him that is wrong- that not only managed to make his mother’s love for him vanish, but also earned him her scorn, he wants to know. He thinks knowing that to be the truth would splinter him in a way he isn’t sure he’d be able to recover from, but he is tired, and alone, and he wants to know why.

He searches his mother’s gaze, desperate for an answer, any answer. She looks back, and yet all that is reflected back at him is contempt, disappointment, and what he fears is disgust.

“It has been years, Aegon. You are being senselessly stubborn, holding onto this…this grudge against me.”

He makes a face at her words, and grabs the pitcher in the table before him only to find it empty, the only wine remaining being that still in the half-filled cup.

“It is not a grudge, I-..”

“Weakness, then,” She sentences, and he doesn’t bother hiding the flinch at her words. His gaze lowers to the table before him. “You’re being a fool, if you think after all this t-…”

His eyes are set on the half-full cup of wine before him, and he doesn’t dare move his gaze as he interrupts, “I am not marrying, mother.”

She considers him in silence, and though for a moment he thinks a hit is to come -he doesn’t usually get away with interrupting her-, followed by her footsteps leaving the room, his mother takes a deep breath and insists,

“It is not me or your father who request this of you. It is your King who commands it.”

“The King, or his Hand?” He retorts. He grabs at the cup and downs the remaining liquid, making a face at the taste of stale wine, and presses on, “I’m guessing a Baratheon, to earn Borros’ support? Or a Tully, to secure the Riverlands?”

For the briefest of moments, when his mother’s lips press into a thin line, hands fidgeting where they rest joined before her, he thinks he finally got the upper hand. That he proved he isn’t as blind to their plots and their increasing panic at Rhaenyra’s influence as he may appear. That he proved her wrong, that he showed he isn’t as incompetent as they’d like to think, that he…

“A Velaryon,” Alicent admits, and any pride, any satisfaction, die out like flames in a room without air. His lips part, he knows not for what since all that leaves them is a choked breath, the beginning of a question, of a name. Aegon searches his mother’s gaze, attempts to find any truth, any certainty, but Alicent looks away. Her next words sound as if heard from underwater. “To keep you from certain execution when your sister ascends the Iron Throne.”

“Do not toy with me, mother,” He means for it to sound like an accusation, like a demand, like anything but a plea, and yet that is what leaves his lips. Betrayed by the waver in his voice, by the iron grip on the glass, he goes on, “She’s touring the whole of fucking Westeros in search of a husband as we speak.”

“She has made her choice, Aegon. It was you she chose,” She promises, and her voice is low and warm and almost comforting, so why does it feel wrong? Why does it make him want to crawl out of his own skin? “As for the tour, it will continue as scheduled. Rhaenyra deserted her own tour before time was due, she knows better than to repeat her mother’s mistake.”

Breathable air is lacking by this chair, in this room, and he stands up, wincing at the too-loud sound of the chair scraping against the ground.

He eyes a pitcher of wine in another table, and crosses the distance with quick strides, refilling his cup and draining half of it before turning to his mother again.

“Why tell me now? I-If the tour is to continue,” If she can still change her mind, “Why tell me now?”

“Your grandsire and I believed you might take this opportunity to amend your behaviors,” Alicent tells him, “So you might save your future wife the embarrassment, so you might protect her honor, seeing as you do not care for ours or your own.”

She hasn’t said your name yet, he notices.

Neither has he, but he has forgotten when it was the last time that he said it aloud. Intentionally, that is, he doesn’t count any time he let it slip past his lips when deep in his cups or buried inside some whore with the wrong shade of silver in her hair -and the wrong eyes, and the wrong voice, and the wrong smile, and the wrong touch-.

Aegon can’t even remember when it was that he decided he wouldn’t utter your name again, all he knows is that through the years what started out of spite, as a way to deny the wound and the absence; has become something else. It has become to him something like a secret, something to be hoarded, to be kept his alone.

Because there’s pride, and satisfaction, and something rotten but his, in having known you in ways no other did. In remembering you how he is certain -he has to be, it is of the few things he has left- no one has known you.

And so he doesn’t speak your name. Lest in sharing any of the warmth of a bond long gone he loses it, dying embers to a strong wind; lest in admitting old truths he is left behind also by the part of you that he keeps safe, a secret only his.

But now in his head resonate so loudly that they drown anything else -like thunder, like the beat of Vermithor’s wings taking you far up into the sky- his mother’s words.

It was you she chose.

Thinking of you has always meant the resurgence of the memory of the goodbye you refused to grant him, of waking to the reverberating cry of Vermithor as he took to the skies with you on his back and flew you away to Dragonstone; or the memory of your disappointment and your sorrow as he avoided your gaze and your words when you met again in Driftmark.

Yet now the memory that comes forth in his mind is another.

You smiled at him, daring and entirely too proud. But how could you not be, when you both knew he would oblige? How could you not be, when he hadn’t been able to tear his gaze from your lips since you had asked him for something as simple as a kiss? And your voice was softer than he’d expected -or perhaps he remembers it softer than it was, perhaps he sees something else when desire was all there was-, warmer than it had ever been, when you whispered, I want it to be you.

And what harm can your name do that his own mind hasn’t inflicted upon him already? What ruin can the uttering of such a familiar word bring that the memories haven’t wrought already?

So he says your name. Willingly, rationally, for the first time in years.

He thought the foolish refusal to utter your name aloud kept you distant, kept the memory of you, the idea of you, as something far from him, gone from him. But he realizes now, with the shape of your name parting his lips and the taste of memories staining his tongue like ash; that you have been a distant memory, a distant dream, for a very long time.

And the knowledge that you chose him, the helpless hope that blooms somewhere in his chest, they cannot do a thing against the horrifying certainty that the future he wanted, the future he mourned, is lost to him regardless of your choices now.

What can he give you now, that that Tyrell knight the rumors say you were so enamored with cannot? How can he not fail whatever expectations you have of him, as he has failed all others? How could you want him now, as what he has made out of himself in these years you’ve spent apart?

It was a comfort, he realizes now, thinking you lost. The comfort of knowing he couldn’t fail you, couldn’t earn your scorn when he had merely your indifference.

A bitter, wretched little laugh leaves his lips then, and he turns his head -to hide, perhaps, the tears brimming in his eyes, the weakness his mother so loathes to see from him- and looks out the window towards the distant skies.

Alicent doesn’t move, merely stands taller, prouder, and presses,

“Isn’t this what you wanted?”

Of course, this is what he fucking wanted, but nearly four years have gone by since he asked to be allowed to marry you and was refused. Even if some part of him wants it, wants you, still, it matters not.

It is what he wanted, before. Before everything got worse, before everything got louder, harder. Before he got worse. Before you forgot about him.

His mother approaches him then, and though he jumps when he sees her reach for him out of the corner of his eye, she grabs onto his forearm and speaks again, forceful, determined,

“Listen to me, Aegon. Your sister has secured her hold on the Seven Kingdoms, both through the strength of her dragons and through her eldest children’s diplomacy with the noble Houses,” His mother tells him, but he cannot hear her, not over the warring thoughts of finally, finally, finally, and too late, too late, too late. “Rhaenyra has allowed for this to happen because she wishes to extend an offer of peace, and you cannot squander this opportunity.”

He turns to her and asks, quietly, forlorning, “Why now?”

“What?”

“Why now?”

Why now, that everything is worse? Why now, that he has become this?

For a moment, a flickering moment gone in the blink of an eye, he thinks he sees sadness, sympathy, in his mother’s warm gaze. For a moment, he believes she will offer words or touch in the way she hasn’t before, in comfort or in reassurance.

But her gaze falls from his, and her grip on his arm -too tight, almost bruising, yet wanted, needed, if it is all he can get- loosens as she lets go of him.

“The betrothal will be announced when the tour is over. The wedding in a week’s time from then.” She tells him, detached, not unlike a messenger delivering a missive.

And with that she leaves his apartments. The door closing echoes in his mind, and he is left behind with a loneliness he doesn’t know where to put, and a hope he doesn’t know how not to fear.

Thank you for reading! I hope you liked it, and I would love to hear your thoughts!

I am endlessly fascinated by the greens and their deeply weird dynamics, and I hope I did them a modicum of justice, even when changed in this AU and despite the influence of fanon in my interpretations of them.

#aegon targaryen x reader #aegon ii x reader #aegon x reader #aegon x you #aegon targaryen x targaryen!reader #aegon ii fanfic #fics by me

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changetyre · 1 year ago

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Squeaky Clean II Charles Leclerc Ⓢ Ⓦ

Warnings: ** 18+**

SUMMARY: Your soon-to-be husband is always up to no good with new purchases except this time the newest purchase is not as bad as you thought.

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You walked into your home expecting to see your fiancé around the corner at any second except this was one of the times he didn't

You knew this meant one of two things, he was outside in the garden and didn't hear you come in, or he was up to no good and something told you it was the latter.

You were cautious as you continued walking further into your home not sure what to expect from your soon-to-be husband who sometimes had a mind of a toddler.

"Charles?" You called out to him after not seeing him across the whole open space of your home which was the living room, dining room, and kitchen.

You were startled when you heard a loud clink coming from your room. You rushed your pace towards it hoping you hadn't accidentally killed your fiancé by alerting him of your presence.

"Cherié!" You let out a small yelp as you almost crashed into Charles as he was coming out of your room, your chest hitting his as you were attempting to go in.

You looked up at him a sly smirk on his lips. "What was that noise?" You asked him.

"What noise?" He giggled.

It was hard to try to be intimidating when those dimples were directly in front of you. "What the hell did you do this time?" You tried to look past him and the fact that he didn't try to block your view actually increased your nerves.

"D'you want me to show you?" He wiggled his eyebrows.

You hesitated for a second squinting your eyes at him. "I swear Charles if you've bought a bigger bed I'm blocking your credit cards." You threatened.

This wouldn't be a surprise to you as Charles in the past 3 years had already bought 5 different beds getting bigger in size claiming it was just not enough space for your nightly activities.

"Not this time but-" He was about to argue.

"Not buts Charles we are not getting another bed this one already takes over half the bedroom, 20 people could fit in it." You countered and he finally shut up.

"Okay well, it's not even that, c, mon let me show you." The smirk was back on his lips. He grabbed your hands and walked you inside the bedroom.

"Charles, can I shower before you show me whatever it is?" You asked your fiancé as he neared the bathroom.

"I was hoping you'd ask that." He wiggled his eyebrows once more, turning around and facing you stepping closer as he began sliding your blazer off your shoulders.

You couldn't help the smile that crept on your lips, the heat suddenly rising to your cheeks as you realized Charles's intentions but were still confused as to what he was hiding that involved...this.

"What are you doing?" You whispered as Charles slips started leaving wet kisses across your neck, his hands not stopping from undressing you.

"Shh just trust me, baby." He whispered into your ear making the hairs stand up all over your body.

You were never good at self-control once Charles got his lips on you so you knew that from this point you would do anything he'd ask.

He reached for the zipper in your pants undoing it and your button before letting them drop around your feet. He grabbed your waist lifting you off your pants.

You instinctively wrapped your legs around Charles's waist which you just realized was now bare completely oblivious to when he had taken his shirt off.

He walked you into the bathroom placing you down on the counter which caused a shiver across your body at the cool contrast against your hot skin.

He continued trailing kisses across your body as he began removing his pants along with his boxers leaving him completely bare.

As he did so you noticed a wrench outside of the shower reminding you of what was possibly Charles's new purchase but before you could let your eyes roam around the space Charles's fingers were dragging your panties down and removing your bra.

It was embarrassing how wet you already were from simply kissing and undressing but Charles loved to see the effect he had on you.

You bucked your hips when Charles's fingers ghosted over your mound, you knew he was teasing you. "Charles please-" You begged.

"What d'you want Cherié." He whispered into your neck where he was leaving his marks like he liked.

"Your fingers...please." You moaned.

He didn't have to be told twice as he let his finger slide through your folds collecting the juices that had already formed between your legs before starting to circle your clit at a torturous pace.

Your head fell back onto the mirror. "Just like that-" You moaned. You knew Charles didn't need to be told since he knew your body inside and outside like the back of his hand but the fact that you were always so vocal was one of his favorite things.

Your mouth opened in a gasp as he slipped two fingers inside you know you could take it as his other hand wrapped around your neck putting just the right amount of pressure around it like you liked it.

Charles watched and enjoyed how you were becoming putty in his hands but he couldn't forget what he had planned so he reluctantly pulled his fingers out of you just as you began rutting your hips against them.

"Charles!" You would've been embarrassed at how pathetic you sounded at the sudden lack of contact but you were so close to reaching your high it didn't matter.

"C,mon." Charles lifted you once more walking you now into the shower where he turned the water on.

"What are you doing? Please, Charles." You tried to reach his member but he kept you up high on his hips preventing you from doing so.

"Patience mon ange." He smirked against your lips before kissing you passionately once more.

After a few seconds of kissing and having the water reach its desired temperature Charles took the detachable shower head and began soaking you.

You jumped at the new sensation at first but you'd had this shower experience with Charles before so this wasn't unfamiliar to you. You'd both normally be soaked before he'd finally fuck you against the wall so you expected something similar.

What you didn't expect and completely took you by surprise was suddenly feeling a high water pressure on your legs. You didn't have much time after looking down before Charles had turned the shower head up into your pussy.

Your legs went weak but it seems Charles had been prepared for your reaction as he held tightly onto your waist.

"Charles! Oh my-" You gasped completely losing control of yourself, unlike anything you'd experienced before. The water hit the perfect spot overwhelming you with pleasure. "I can't-" you tried to voice your lack of control but Charles could see it perfectly.

The smirk only increased on his lips as he knew he'd made the perfect purchase, he carefully set you down on the bathroom floor hoping to be able to get a better look at what he was doing.

His steady pulse and incredible aim made it so the pleasure you were feeling seemed never-ending if you had been able to open your eyes for a few seconds you'd see how painfully hard Charles had begun from simply watching you writhe in pleasure in a completely new way.

Now that one of his hands was free Charles took it upon himself to stroke himself in attempts to alleviate the now uncomfortable tension accumulating between his legs.

He watched how you fought to keep your legs open which is why he scooted closer placing himself in between your legs using his body to keep your legs open. For a few seconds, you felt his member hit your stomach which made you jump from how overstimulated your whole body felt.

Although it felt like hours it was only a few minutes after Charles had set you down on the floor that your pleasure had reached it's piqued and you trembled as the fireworks erupted not only in your center but all over your body.

Reaching for Charles for some sort of stability a few seconds after you felt and were finally able to see Charles also finished over your body, his cum running down from your chest to the rest of your body quickly from how wet you were.

You watched as Charles twisted the shower head the pressure going back to normal and the water streaming from multiple holes before he rinsed himself of a little.

He then took it upon himself to help you rinse off, lathering his hands with soap and being careful to wash you not going anywhere near your most sensitive zone in order not to cause any pain.

"Did you like that cherié?" Charles smirked as he kissed the top of your head.

You laughed to yourself. "I think a little too much."

"See not everything I spend money on is bad." He laughed too.

"Maybe not bad but definitely naughty." you teased looking up at your fiancé with total adoration as he rinsed the shampoo of your hair.

His eyes met yours and the same feeling could be seen in his eyes as he admired you. "I love you." He whispered leaning down for a quick kiss before helping you get up from the shower floor.

You hissed in pain feeling like Bambi as you tried to steady yourself on your shaky legs but ultimately knowing Charles was holding you tightly enough to not let you fall. "I love you." You finally said back as Charles reached for a towel and wrapping around you carefully.

He lifted you up bridal style not bothering to wrap himself up in a towel. "I can't wait to marry you." He smiled as he led you to the bedroom.

#f1smut #f1 #charles leclerc #formula one #formula 1 #f1fic #f1 x reader #leclerc #charles leclerc smut #smut #one shot #f1 imagine #f1 one shot #f1 x you #changetyre

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bbjobo · 7 months ago

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Hello hi it’s me, your resident entertainment PR enthusiast. I simply need to talk about the sequel announcement. This is all speculation, but I work in entertainment-adjacent communications and once convinced a household name celebrity to stay at my event to do select press interviews when his wife was going to go into labor at literally any minute, so I like to think I've got a pretty good sense of all of this.

So buckle in, because I'm about how actually fantastic this rollout was, because I’d wager they’ve been planning this since the premiere.

RWRB came out truly smack-dab in the middle of the actors' strike. We all know just how much press we must have missed out on, because the strike started before promo would have kicked off in earnest. And when it was finally over in November, the actors are potentially out of contract for promotion, and that’s not even taking into consideration that the holidays are coming up and the six weeks from American Thanksgiving to New Year’s is truly a black hole of press. So this little movie has to rely almost entirely on fan reaction and word of mouth to hit because they’re so limited in what they can do for promo. And it IS a hit! Records are broken! Comments for an extended version (which, ok Matthew we get it, does not exist) and a sequel start almost immediately.

The marketing team makes the most of what they’ve got: they’re keeping up the official character accounts, they’re dropping deleted scenes and BTS. We get cornettos! The fireside scene! Bloopers! Notably absent? Brownstone Thanksgiving. We’ve seen BTS photos of it, we know it exists. Thanksgiving 2023 would have been a great time to drop it, but they don’t. This is the approximate point at which my own personal sequel speculation began. After the strike ends, the posting pace slows considerably but it’s still consistent. It’s just enough to keep it in your mind but not enough to be like “why are you still posting this much about it?” And this continues into 2024.

On the contracting side, conversations were likely actively happening at this point. I wouldn’t be surprised if negotiations picked up literally as soon as the strike ended. The producers would have had that time to get Matthew and Casey back on board and be fully prepped and ready to move on to contracting actors the minute they could. It’d be a shot in the dark to try to guess when these were finalized, but at some point between November 9 and May 9, yeah, they’re in.

But whew, Nicholas is booked and BUSY. Mary & George drops internationally March 5, The Idea of You closes SXSW on March 17, two weeks later M&G starts airing in the US and Canada, and a month after that, TIOY is available for streaming (and limited theatrical release, which is another whole post), and in between all those premieres, he’s everywhere. He’s criss-crossing the country (and tbh the Atlantic Ocean) for all of these appearances, truly going non-stop. The pacing of the premieres makes it nearly impossible to squeeze in another project announcement, and if they had, it would have been a bigger part of every interview he did after, which is something his own team would be working to balance. Plus between TIOY and RWRB, Prime would have been pitching stories against themselves. Better to let him finish out his other promotional appearances and then switch over.

At the same time, we’ve got awards and red carpet season starting. At nearly every red carpet appearance not for their own projects, both Taylor and Nick are asked about a sequel. If an interviewer is given enough time, they ask about a sequel. Sure, fans comment about a sequel on every vaguely rwrb social post from an official account, but the press asking about a sequel felt like a lot to me. Everyone always gave the same vague answer, that they’d be up for it if the story is right, that they don’t know but would be happy to. (Except one time, Nick does slip up and give an answer that feels a little more definitive here where he says “conversations are being had” all the way back in late February/early March). Press are asking the question so consistently that it felt like if it wasn’t happening, PR teams would have put the sequel on the do not ask list.

Then Prime starts actually ramping up on a FYC campaign for the movie. I'm gonna be honest, I was so surprised. It's a rom com, the odds of a rom com getting any sort of awards recognition is so slim, but I thought, "ok, sure, use FYC as a way to get the promo boost they need for an announcement of whatever's coming next." And then I looked up and Variety has picked it as the winner in the best television movie category, which is blowing my mind. The other categories they're submitting in are stacked and I think a nomination beyond television movie will be a long shot, but again, it's big for it to even be considered. And if they're being talked about, that means Prime's gotta put out a great showing for their FYC campaign.

Which brings us to this week. We start off on Monday with Nick at the Met Gala referring to Uma as his mother-in-law. Incredible. Love it. Wednesday and Thursday are a one-two punch of a FYC event and fan event, and the gang’s all here. At the FYC, we get the industry side of things: new portraits and interviews with Deadline, process talk, etc. Because this little rom com is actually doing pretty well and beating the odds? Knowing what we know now, the PR teams spent this week pre-briefing the press on the sequel announcement. Notable (at least to my knowledge) the sequel question doesn't get asked at the FYC event. Because the press already knows it's coming.

Now, on to yesterday. They do a fan screening and Q&A, and they literally roll out the red carpet. Nine months after the premiere and exactly six months after the strike ended, they get the gang back together with fans of the movie, who they relied on so heavily during the strike to help make the movie a success. The tagline on the screen’s giant promo image has been updated to specifically thank fans for “making history with us.” The moderator for the Q&A is the same person who interviewed Taylor and Nick at the beginning of FYC campaign season, their first joint interview since GQ (right? pretty sure. it's all a blur tbh). And at the end of the Q&A, minutes before 12 AM ET, when the embargo on the press release would have lifted, they make the announcement not to press, but to the fans. The fans who loved the book, who watched it over and over, who spread the word about the movie to help make it one of Prime’s top three rom coms OF ALL TIME.

It’s just… an absolute masterclass in how to execute a major announcement that embraces the fans in a time where fandom and interaction between creators and fans can be an absolute minefield. Prime saw the opportunity to lean into the fannishness of it all and they took it and it was a slam dunk.

So where do we go from here? IDK but here’s some unconnected thoughts in list form like Alex would want.

The book’s 5th anniversary is next Wednesday, the 14th.

Casey’s been posting about working on [redacted] for months at this point, which is almost certainly the screenplay

Nick mentioned needing to be back in the UK for filming soon

They would probably like to release this in US election off-cycle years, so that means 2025 or 2027 (and 2027 is too far away). 2026 would be less bad since it’s a midterm election, but still.

Filming could reasonably start sooner rather than later, and even without an unfinished script

I guess we’re back on content watch for blond hair and BTS pictures

#rwrb #red white and royal blue #taylor zakhar perez #nicholas galitzine #i'm gonna be thinking about this for YEARS #A+ to the whole team that made this happen #i hope they get some rest now #god i love this kind of thing

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scoops-aboy86 · 5 months ago

Text

Realize You’re Living (Secret Admirer pt 5)

Steddie Week 2024, July 5: Reunion / exes to lovers or getting back together / Wasted Years by Iron Maiden

Sorry. Not for the delay in posting, I just think I'm gonna get yelled at for reasons.

wc: 2815 / rated: T / set between seasons 2 and 3 / also on ao3

There isn’t time to send Steve another letter before Friday.

There isn’t time, not through the mail, and there’s no way Eddie is risking physically putting something in the Harrington’s mailbox himself. That would mean running the risk of someone finding out, and that still ignites an old fear in the most primal part of his brain that screams at him to run. No matter who it is.

On the other hand, standing Steve up for their phone date is not an option. The very idea makes his insides freeze over. They’ve both had to reassure each other that they want to continue this epistolary romance, Jesus H. Christ—there’s been too much hot and cold already to pull something like that.

Eddie rolls over on his bed to lay face down and screams into his pillow. It's like they’re in a relationship, except Steve doesn’t even know who he is. It's absurd. An absolute clown town of his own making.

Okay. Okay, no, he can do this. (Can he?) All he has to do is relax and stay calm until tomorrow night. He’ll call at 10:30 on the dot and play Steve some Iron Maiden or something, maybe a little Dio, a smidge of Black Sabbath, throw in a dash of Judas Priest… Basically play the guy a mix tape, live.

He whips his head up and all but dives for his side table, looking for the tin where he keeps his weed. It’ll help him chill out enough to come up with a song list. And he needs all the chill he can get. He’s lost his mom to cancer, his dad to addiction and prison, and his childhood home with them—he refuses to lose Steve if he has even half a chance of actually having Steve. Because if this whole secret admirer thing is going where he hardly dares to hope it is, this could be the most important mix tape of his entire goddamn life.

Steve spends all of Friday so on edge that Robin starts threatening to drop banana peels in the circuit he keeps pacing behind the counter.

“What is with you today, dingus?”

He stops, tapping his foot restlessly and removing his hat so he can rake a hand through his hair. “Nothing, nothing, I… have an important call tonight, is all. I think.”

She raises an eyebrow at him. “Oooh, is it a pretty girl?” she teases.

“Maybe,” he mutters with a halfhearted shrug. He really still doesn’t know, and it doesn’t seem likely he’ll find out tonight. “I’m not even sure they’ll call. It’s… kind of a blind date sort of thing.”

“A blind phone date?” Robin looks like she doesn’t know what to do with that, which. Fair. “Is that a thing?”

Steve shrugs again. He goes back to pacing. “It might be. I’ll find out tonight I guess.”

She gives him a minute before butting in again, spraying more Windex on the display case to get the lunch rush’s grubby child fingerprints off the cool glass. “...Is this because of the board?”

Again, Steve stops. “What?”

“The You Rule / You Suck board. Have I accidentally degraded your confidence in yourself so much that you’ve turned to blind dates as an alternative to trying to seduce any and every girl who walks in here?”

Her tone is flippant, but because they’ve been on better terms recently—especially since Steve started offering her rides (and let her take control of the tape deck after that time she threatened to throw all of his Wham! tapes out the window)—he decides to take it as a genuine question.

“No. Well—No, it’s more the hat than that. It messes up my best feature, you know?” He runs a hand through his hair again, fluffing it up more, then slumps against the back counter next to the milkshake blenders with a sigh. “It’s kind of a pen pal thing. We’ve been talking for a while but we haven’t met, but… I think it might be going somewhere good.”

Robin stops her bored polishing of the display case, only half of the afternoon rush’s smudges and fingerprints wiped away, to laugh with a slight shake of her head. “Oh wow, King Steve is a romantic. Who knew?”

“Not me before junior year, that’s for sure,” he scoffs honestly.

She studies him thoughtfully for a moment. “Makes sense. Kind of lines up with something I heard the other day, when—”

But then they’re interrupted by a couple strolling in for some ice cream. Robin rushes through cleaning the rest of the glass so as to get out of their way, and Steve scoops and rings them up while she moves on to wiping down tables, conversation forgotten.

Eddie’s finished his playlist and his plan is to call early. Not too early, just… a minute, five minutes tops. His uncle leaves for work before 10, so he has plenty of time and he’s buzzing with nervous energy.

Way too much nervous energy to carry into the Big Call tonight.

By the time Wayne is out the door, Eddie’s already started on rolling a joint and rereading Steve’s letters from start to current. If he’d been smart he would’ve written out copies of his own for a more complete read, that in depth analysis his English teachers never shut up about… but alas.

Usually his memory is pretty good, especially when it comes to his own work. He also hadn’t expected this to go on as long as it had; not really. But now he can hardly imagine what it would be like to know Steve only from a distance anymore and that… colors things. Fuck only knows what he’s remembering wrong because of a simple difference in perspective.

Because Steve has let him in, Eddie acknowledges as he lines the weed up on the paper. He’s written things about his home life, about his old friends, and definitely about his injuries over the past couple years (though oddly enough never much about what actually caused them) that Eddie would bet good money that no one else knows, if only because Steve doesn’t seem to have anyone else to tell. Maybe those kids he babysits (begrudgingly but genuinely dotes on, Eddie’s seen it from a distance). But really, how much can you realistically talk to a thirteen year old? Eddie remembers being thirteen; he hadn’t listened to anyone for shit. It was a miracle Wayne hadn’t just released him into the woods like a wild animal.

And all Eddie’s been doing is pulling Steve close, while steadfastly keeping him out. God.

He licks the joint to seal it, lights up, and keeps rereading.

Steve is standing by the phone in his kitchen watching the second hand on the clock. How it sneaks around the clock face, slow but steady, until it laps the 12 line and it’s 10:31.

He slumps back against the kitchen island with a groan. That had been an absolutely excruciating minute, and he’s staring down the barrel of another fifty-nine more until he can reasonably give up hope. Because anything under an hour is just running late, right? Something could have come up, something unavoidable like… family coming home unexpectedly, making a private conversation impossible.

… Okay, maybe that was a stress dream he’d had last night about his parents, but something like it could happen to anyone.

10:32. The second hand barely makes it past fifteen this time before the silence is split by the shriek of ringing in the otherwise silent house. Steve multitasks, jumping out of his skin and lunging to answer the phone at the same time.

“HelloHarringtonresidence, thisisStevehowcanIhelpyou?” he rushes out.

There’s no response except breathing on the other end of the line, which would be creepy if it weren’t exactly what he was hoping for.

(Eddie is pressing a hand over his mouth, keeping in an equal parts amused and disbelieving laugh at how Steve had answered the phone, all flustered and cute and overly formal in an automatic sort of way that suggests an ingrained habit. From what he knows about Steve’s parents, he’s not terribly surprised, but it’s still such a delightfully dorky greeting.

And it seems like Steve really was waiting by the phone for his call, which makes Eddie want to fucking dance.)

“Is that you?” After a second, a light bulb goes off in Steve’s head and he adds, “Oh. Uh, tap once for yes, twice for no?”

It takes a few seconds, but then he hears a single tap against the plastic of the other receiver.

(Smart, Eddie would tell him if he could. If he dared. He sucks hard on the last of his joint before letting the smoke billow from his nose like a dragon and putting it out in the ashtray by his bed. Maybe he mashes it in a little harder than necessary, blaming it for being late even though that’s really just another one of his bad habits at this point.)

Relief breaks over Steve like a wave. “Oh my god, it’s you. You’re the, um, my secret admirer?”

Tap.

(Yeah sweetheart, it’s me.)

Steve does a little bounce on the balls of his feet and pumps his fist, too giddy to feel stupid about it with no one watching. “Holy shit. I mean, t-thanks for calling. Sorry, my parents make me answer the phone like that.”

Nothing.

(Eddie is smiling. Beaming, really. I figured, he imagines saying. At first it makes his heart feel full just thinking about it, but then has to stop that line of thought before his anxiety conjures up all the ways Steve Harrington, until recently Hawkins High’s resident ladies man, might react to the surprise of being on a phone date with a guy. Jesus, how is he high and still so nervous?)

“Right, you can’t answer. I mean, you can, if you want, but you don’t have to. This is, this is to see how I like your music.” Steve rubs awkwardly at the back of his neck. “Did you want to play something for me now, or…”

Tap.

(All the tapes are on standby, spread out in chaotic order around the second-hand player he got last year after Wayne’s old one crapped out on him. Eddie cranks up the volume as high as it’ll go; he’s used to it, the neighbors are resigned to it, and Steve won’t be able to hear it well enough to count through the phone otherwise.)

The first song starts, and Steve twists the phone cord between his fingers as he stands in his kitchen and listens. There’s a heavy beat and a noticeable bass line, even over the phone, nothing like the pop rock he usually listens to. But…

“… I definitely didn’t hate it,” he says once the last notes fade out.

(Eddie is vibrating as he hits pause and ejects the tape, elated, a few of his worries already soothed. Steve doesn’t hate metal. That doesn’t necessarily mean Steve will like him, but it’s got to make the odds at least a little better, right? He wants to say fuck yeah or I love you or, fucking… shriek wordlessly or something, but presses his hand over his cotton-dry mouth instead, hard enough that his gums ache a little.)

“It kind of reminded me of AC/DC? Like Back in Black, or Hells Bells.”

(They’re not one of Eddie’s favorites, didn’t even make the playlist. But they’re harder rock than he expected Steve to be familiar with, and suddenly he has a wild urge to know what the guy thinks of You Shook Me All Night Long.)

“One time, the radio played Big Balls in the car and my mom literally clutched her pearls and said, ‘I don’t think he’s talking about ballroom dancing, Richard!’”

(Eddie grins as the funny little falsetto Steve put on for the impression fades into a rich laugh, like he’s so tickled by the memory that he can’t help it. There was probably some appalled, classic white-anglo-saxon-protestant-sucking-on-a-lemon expression on her face that he’s picturing, while Eddie can only imagine. It’s okay, Eddie is too busy wanting to pour Steve’s laugh into a bathtub and soak in it.)

Tap.

“Yeah, really not,” Steve agrees, his cheeks almost aching from smiling so wide. He feels lighter than air just knowing he’s on the phone with the person who’s been writing to him the past couple months, knowing he’s proving that they’re genuinely at least a little bit compatible. “So, what’s the next song?”

It goes on like that. Steve doesn’t know the artists or albums or track titles, but figures that Secret Admirer will fill him in with the next letter. There are a couple of songs that are more shouting than singing for his taste—“I like songs I can sing along to once I know the words, you know? Really belt out in the car after a long day, or something,” he explains, and gets a yes tap in response.

(Eddie has to improvise. Instead of another WASP song, he reaches for an Iron Maiden tape he’d put aside as a half-assed backup and scours the track list, trying to decide… Ah, that one. He pops it in and turns the volume down for a second so he can check that he’s fast forwarding to the right spot on the tape.

This one’s for you, sweetheart, he thinks, lighting a second joint—not for nerves this time, but just for fun. He leans back and lets the smoke fill his lungs, fill his mind, send him floating off to whatever time of that big house Steve is curled up in so he can spiritually throw an arm around the other guy’s shoulders.)

Steve likes the instrumentals in the intro of this one. He doesn’t really track the words at first once they start—usually doesn’t, on a first listen-through, with so much new to take in. But he starts catching on to the shape of them by the first of what turns out to be the chorus.

So understand Don't waste your time always searching for those wasted years Face up, make your stand Realize you're living in the golden years

Too much time on my hands, I got you on my mind Can't ease this pain so easily When you can't find the words to say, hard to make it through another day And it makes me wanna cry, throw my hands up to the sky

So understand Don't waste your time always searching for those wasted years Face up, make your stand Realize you're living in the golden years, hey!

He listens, slowly untangling himself from the long phone cord and taking a seat on one of the stools at the kitchen island. When the song finally fades out and he hears the far-off click of the tape being stopped and taken out, he asks hopefully, “It’s about seizing the day, right?”

Maybe they’re building up to telling him who they are, or at least giving him a little more.

(Eddie freezes, not expecting Steve—who had told him he didn’t get things on the first try—to venture any insights. Especially on a song that hadn’t been on his list, a last minute change-up that he’d picked with the transformation from King Steve to just normal guy Steve in mind and how Steve seems so hung up on apologizing for the douchebag he used to be.

Or at least, used to be on the outside. Every day, Eddie gets a little less sure that persona went much further than skin-deep.

A tiny sound curls out of Eddie’s throat, a barely audible, inquisitive hum. Something that says please, keep going. He knows Steve has heard it because of the quick intake of breath over the line.)

Steve clutches the handset so hard that his knuckles go white. It’s the first sound, the first crumb that Secret Admirer has given him that’s really them, not a tap on plastic or other people’s music. Too quiet to make out any distinguishing features, but it’s something.

It feels like everything.

“You could, you know,” Steve says softly. “You could… make a stand? If you told me who you are, or just anything more about you, I… I really like you. I know for sure that I want to know you. Maybe that makes me a romantic sap, but it’s true. What if we find out we could have our golden years right now?”

(Eddie is freaking out. The mellow of his high isn’t helping anymore, all the floaty syrupy hopefulness of it stripped away. Oh fuck oh balls oh shit, shit, shit!

He’s hyperventilating, knows Steve can probably hear it, and he’s nothing but a goddamn coward in the end.

He can't do this.)

There’s a single clunk, and then all Steve hears is dial tone.

Tag list: @hotluncheddie @lawrencebshoggoth @sofadofax @tangerinesteve @steviewashere

@cryingglightningg @theresebelivett @sleepy-steve @rozzieroos @lunaraindrop

@just-my-latest-hyperfixation @wheneverfeasible @swimmingbirdrunningrock @yesdangerpls @matchingbatbites

@ihavekidneys @p0lybl4nkk @grtwdsmwhr @cheesedoctor @whalesharksart

@thetinymm @envyadams-vs-me @practicallybegging @imhereforthelolzdontyellatme @dauntlessdiva

@nerdyglassescheeseychick @fuzzyduxk @chaosgremlinmunson @greatwerewolfbeliever @goosesister

@dolphincliffs

#steddieweek2024 #scoops words #secret admirer steddie #steddie #eddie munson #steve harrington #robin buckley #platonic stobin

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imaginespazzi · 6 months ago

Note

nivi, we need another chaotic family drabble with kk reacting to azzi's post for ice when she never got one for her bday 😂

Unserious, unedited chaos back by popular demand 🤪:

It takes 5 minutes between Azzi hitting the post button and deciding to take a much-needed nap, before her door is being slammed open and KK comes roaring through it, face livid, Jana on the tip of her heels, and Paige following behind them both with an amused smirk.

"What. Is. This?" KK asks, shoving her phone in Azzi's face.

Azzi squints, "it's my birthday story for Ice?"

"AND WHY DOES ICE GET A BIRTHDAY STORY?" KK yells, stomping her foot to go along with it.

Before Azzi can reply, she's being tackled into a hug by a 6'3 koala, which sends her reeling about five steps.

"I KNEW I WAS YOUR FAVORITE CHILD," Ice bellows and Azzi flinches from how loud it is in her ear, suddenly nostalgic for the silence.

"I cannot BELIEVE," KK paces as Ice clings onto Azzi's back, "that you would differentiate between your children like this,"" she turns to Jana, "tell her Jana, tell her how much that hurt you."

"That really hurt my feelings," Jana recites and Azzi has to stifle a laugh, Paige doesn't even bother.

"KK-"

"IT'S KAMOREA TO YOU," KK holds up a hand and Azzi rolls her eyes.

"Okay then Kamorea-"

"I just-" KK lets out a dramatic, "I just wanna know why you know? What does SHE have that I don't mom? Is it the extra 2 inches-"

Ice scoffs, "you're barely 5-8"

"THAT'S NOT THE POINT," KK yells again and Paige snickers which gets her a pointed glare from KK, "what are YOU laughing at? She posted Lou too, when's the last time she posted you other than to get photo creds?"

Paige reels back at that, smirk disappearing as she turns to Azzi, "that's not the only reason you posted right? Right? I looked cute in those pics and you couldn't help yourself? RIGHT?"

"Right," Azzi nods, trying to prevent herself from rolling her eyes again, "that's exactly why."

"Girl boo, Don't believe her. She's a liar and a TRAITOR," KK stands defiantly in front of Paige, "besides we have to go find me a stepmother."

"Not this again," Azzi sighs, wondering why she doesn't lock her door more often. She still has all of Ice wrapped around her and it seems like the younger girl has not intention of getting off.

"Do you see, do you see how little she cares about you? ABOUT US?" KK puts a dramatic hand to her heart, "she doesn't even care."

"I don't want a new mother," Ice presses a wet kiss against Azzi's cheeks and Azzi can't help but smile despite the insanity, "I like this one."

"Then we'll do it parent-trap style, you get Azzi and I get Paige," KK says, nodding her head like she's making the most serious decision of her life.

Jana guffaws, "hello? Who do I get? Am I an orphan now?"

"You can come with us Jana," Ice volunteers excitedly, "you and Nés both."

"Absolute not. I am not losing my children and-" Paige cuts in, turning to Azzi with big blue eyes, "I don't want a divorce."

It's on the tip of Azzi's tongue to make a remark about how they're not married but she knows reason and logic are not her friends when it comes to this situation.

"KK-" she begins

"IT'S KAMOREA TO YOU," KK retorts haughtily. sitting herself down on Azzi's bed and crossing her leg.

Azzi lets out a deep breath, trying to muster as much sincerity as she can, "Kamorea I am sorry I hurt your feelings. Next year, I will post a story-"

"A grid post," KK demands.

"Right. I will make a grid post for you-"

"Because I am your favoritest child?" KK gives Azzi a look as behind her both Jana and Ice burst into protests.

"Because you are my child and I love you," Azzi concedes, "and I have an extra bag of of trufru that you can have."

A grins burst onto KK's face simultaneously with Paige's face dropping, "SHE GETS THAT BAG OF TRUFRU? SHE LITERALLY JUST GOT HOSPITALIZED FOR IT?"

"You said to fix it so will you just let me goddamn fix it?" Azzi says exasperatedly as Paige continues to sulk in the corner.

"I'm still mad at you," KK says slowly as she lifts off the bed, "but I might be less mad after I've had some time to think over trufru."

"My trufru," Paige mutters under her breath, following KK out of the door, no doubt on a mission to steal some for herself. Ice detaches herself from Azzi, practically skipping out the door with a happy grin and Jana shakes her head, sharing a commiserating smile with Azzi as she heads out as well.

This time, Azzi does lock her door, getting ready to finally take her now well-deserved nap, when her phone rings. Seeing Inés's called ID, she picks up the phone with a grin.

"Hi Nésy-"

"YOU POSTED A STORY FOR ICE???"

And that ladies and gentlemen, is why Azzi Fudd stays so far away from the grenade that is social media. Really, she'd much rather be asleep anyways.

#azzi fudd #paige bueckers #kk arnold #ice brady #jana el alfy #ines bettencourt #just plain ol' ridiculousness as always

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punkshort · 11 months ago

Text

look what we've become - ch.5

Chapter Summary: On the road to take Ellie back to her family, you finally figure out what's been holding you back about your future with Joel.

Chapter Warnings: language, smut (18+ MDNI), piv sex, fear of commitment, discussions of pregnancy

WC: 7.1K

Series Masterlist | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

"Joel, come on. We spent the better part of a year out there every single day, you know I can handle myself," you said, trying to reason with him.

His pulse thrummed in his throat, anger still bubbling just below the surface as he paced around the kitchen, opening and slamming cupboards mindlessly.

"Do I need to remind you of all the shit that happened in that year?" he replied angrily, still pacing around the kitchen, burning off his nervous energy.

"No," you said softly, and he squeezed his eyes shut, guilt immediately washing over him.

"I'm sorry," he mumbled, and you shook your head.

"It's fine."

Sighing, his palms roughly rubbed his face. He hated this feeling. He just wanted to keep you safe, but he knew he couldn't control you, either. And for whatever reason, you were hellbent on taking this girl back to her family.

"Please," he said, resorting to begging now. "Please don't go. I got a bad feelin' 'bout this."

"But you're going with me," you said, taking a few steps towards him. He eyed you wearily, but he could feel his resolve breaking. "You can keep me safe."

"Yeah, 'cause I did such a great job the first time," he muttered.

"I'm alive, aren't I?" you countered. He dropped his chin to his chest, and you knew you were wearing him down. Stepping forward to close the gap, you tentatively placed your hands on his shoulders and leaned into his chest. His fingers itched to touch you, but he refrained, his stubbornness winning the fight.

"I'm sorry 'bout what I said," he told you, his lips brushing against the top of your head.

"I told you it was fine."

"I meant what I said at Tommy's," he replied, looking behind you at the wall, avoiding eye contact. "That was low."

You swallowed the lump in your throat and took a step back with a shrug.

"I probably deserved it," you said. "Don't worry about it."

"No, you don't deserve it. Don't say that," he said, furrowing his brow and looking at you now. "I'm just sore about it, still."

"I know," you said quietly. You looked at one another for a moment, each of you unsure how to navigate this rough patch on top of everything else.

"Is there anythin' I can do to talk you outta this?"

"Short of tying me down, no," you said with a smirk.

"Don't gimme any ideas," he said, and although he was trying to sound serious, the corners of his mouth pulled up into a barely perceptible grin.

"Would that make you feel better, baby?" you asked lowly. His eyes fluttered shut and he felt a stirring below his waist at the tone in your voice.

"Don't do that," he warned, but his voice held no conviction.

"Do what?" you asked innocently.

"You're tryin' to distract me."

"Is it working?"

"You know it is."

You hummed and took a step forward. Wrapping your arms around his neck, you pulled him down, giving him a soft kiss before leaving a slow trail of kisses along his scruffy jaw.

"This ain't fair," he sighed, closing his eyes and giving in, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you closer, pressing you against his body.

"I know," you whispered, running the tip of your tongue all the way down his neck until you reached his collarbone. You grazed your teeth along the sensitive skin there, and he shuddered.

"If you know, then why're you doin' it?"

"Because you haven't touched me in weeks, and I need you," you said before sucking a bruise into his skin and leaving out the underlying reason: you needed to feel close to him.

"Fuck, sweetheart, c'mon," he complained weakly, but you knew you already won.

"Okay, I'll stop," you said suddenly, untangling yourself from him and stepping backwards. "I have other things I need to do anyway, like get ready for this trip."

He had you pushed up against the wall in a heartbeat, pulling your knees up so your legs clung to his waist for support, grinding his hips into you with a groan. You gasped when his mouth latched onto your neck, biting and licking aggressively as you clutched his broad shoulders.

"That kid gonna walk in here?" he asked, voice muffled against your neck.

"I locked the door when I came in."

"Good girl," he said, his big hands gripping your ass as he stepped you both away from the wall and walked you towards the living room, his mouth barely leaving your body in the process.

He dropped you both on the couch with a grunt, your legs falling open now that they didn't need to support you. Dragging his face off of your neck, you pulled him up for a deep kiss, his tongue instantly invading your mouth while his hands fumbled with the button on your shorts. You wiggled your body so you could free yourself of your shirt, only breaking contact with Joel for a moment. His hands cupped your breasts and he let out an appreciative groan, rolling your nipple between his fingers, making you whimper into his mouth.

You could tell he needed you just as badly, the desperation was rolling off of him in waves. He only managed to pull down his jeans a few inches, freeing himself from his pants quickly. Tucking his chin down so he could line himself up, he pulled the bottom of his T-shirt up and held it between his teeth, not letting it go until he sunk the tip of his cock into you. His jaw relaxed with a soft moan, T-shirt fluttering back down to cover his stomach and his forehead coming to rest gently on your shoulder as he slowly stretched you open.

"Oh, fuck," you gasped, eyes screwed shut as you focused entirely on that blissful feeling of him first entering you. "Fuck, fuck, fuck," you chanted until he bottomed out with a groan.

"God, I missed that so much," you whined, clutching his shoulders as you adjusted to his size. You felt him sigh with relief on top of you, unmoving, just enjoying the feeling for a few moments. Your fingers relaxed on his shoulders and you raked them gently over his back and up through his hair, your nails scraping over his scalp in the way that made him shiver.

Suddenly, his hands shot up and snagged both your wrists, pinning them down on either side of your head and into the couch cushion. He leaned up, all his weight pressing into your wrists as he looked down at you.

"Didn't you say somethin' about tyin' you down?" he asked with a smirk. Recognition flashed across your eyes and you grinned.

"I did," you said, and you felt him twitch inside you.

"This'll have to do," he told you, rolling his hips into you for the first time. You moaned, your hands instinctively trying to move to grab him, but you could only stretch out your fingers. He tsked at you, rolling his hips more.

"Nuh uh," he teased, feeling your muscles flexing under his grip. "Why d'you insist on drivin' me crazy all the damn time, huh?"

You mumbled something unintelligible as a response, too distracted, the sensation of his thick cock dragging in and out of you commanding your full attention. Each and every inch of him pushing into you, making your head swim and your thighs tense.

"Had so much to say earlier, not so much anymore," he said, snapping his hips into you faster, your breaths coming in sharp gasps. His fingers squeezed around your wrists, watching as your tits bounced with every harsh thrust.

"Maybe next time they're lookin' for volunteers, I'll just fuck you to keep your mouth shut," he said with a grunt as he felt you clench around him, his hips stuttering for a second before he picked his pace back up.

"Joel," you whined. Your biceps ached from straining against his grip, not realizing how much you enjoyed touching him until you couldn't do it, and now it was all you wanted.

"Oh, shit," he gasped, his orgasm sneaking up on him faster than he expected. He squeezed his eyes shut and tried to focus. He opened his eyes again just to find yours were screwed tight, head tipped to the side, and lower lip trapped between your teeth.

"Look at me," he commanded, but you ignored him. Eyes closed, head still tilted away. "Look at me and tell me what you need," he said more firmly now. Urgently. Your eyes snapped open and you gazed up at him.

"Touch me," you whispered, and he instantly brought both your arms above your head, crossing your wrists so he could hold them down with one hand, freeing the other to slip between your bodies. Your eyes widened and your jaw fell open, drawing a loud moan from your throat the moment he made contact. You began to rock your hips upwards, meeting him thrust for thrust as his thumb pressed circles into your clit faster.

"C'mon," Joel begged, trying so hard to hold back so you could come first. "C'mon, I need to feel it, come for me."

You lifted your back off the couch, arching as you felt your orgasm swell. His name was stuck in your throat, body rigid for a moment as it washed over you, your fingers digging into his and nearly drawing blood.

"Oh, f-fuck, fuck yes," he groaned, slamming himself into you over and over, fucking you through it until your body relaxed under him. He pulled out quickly, stroking himself before he stilled, watching in a daze as he painted your stomach with his spend.

He released your wrists, panting as he sat back onto the couch and closed his eyes.

"Joel, can you-" you began to ask if he would hand you a tissue, but he cut you off, figuring out your request for himself.

"Yeah, hold on," he said, fixing his pants before standing up with a grunt and grabbing the tissue box, pulling one out and then carefully cleaning you up. You watched him as he stayed focused on his task, then frowned when he paused for a moment as he stared at your torso, lost in thought. You reached a hand out to twist the ends of his hair between your fingers, and that seemed to snap him out of it. Still avoiding your gaze, he finished cleaning you with a sigh, then dropped his head forward between his shoulders.

You thought maybe he was thinking about your conversation about kids since he had made sure to pull out this time, but when his thumb stretched up to graze the scars along your ribs, you realized you were wrong.

"Joel-"

"You could've died," he said, lifting his head to look at the scars you were rewarded years ago for saving his life. You curled his hair around your finger before tucking it behind his ear.

"You could've died, too," you countered.

"I don't care 'bout me, I care 'bout you."

"Well, I don't care about me, I care about you," you shot back. He sighed and leaned forward, wrapping his arms around your naked body and resting the side of his head against your stomach.

"Please stay home," he whispered.

"I... I can't," you told him.

"Why?"

You closed your eyes and took a deep breath, wishing so badly that you could tell him Ellie's secret, but you made her a promise.

"Because she's scared, Joel. And she asked me. She was crying, you didn't see her," you explained. "When she found out I wasn't going, she was devestated."

"She was crying?" he asked in disbelief, lifting his head from your stomach to look at you, and you nodded.

He sighed again, defeated, and rubbed his eyes.

"Fine," he said, sounding tired. He reached behind him to find your clothes and handed them back to you, piece by piece, as you dressed yourself.

"It's only a couple of weeks," you assured him, standing up to button your shorts. He straightened and looked down at you.

"Suppose it's best you aren't here, anyway," he acquiesced. "Just in case these people see through our bullshit."

"Right," you said, chewing on your lower lip. "But they don't know where we live."

"No, but I got a feelin' they could find out if they really wanted to," he replied, walking back toward the kitchen and leaving you with yet another concern that would keep you up at night.

It was early in the morning as you and Joel silently made your way through the sleeping town towards the front gate. On your back you carried your pack with your rolled up sleeping bag strapped to the bottom, same as Joel. You felt unusually nervous, most likely due to Joel putting all those ideas in your head that something will go wrong. Or maybe it was because you hardly spent much time outside the walls of Jackson anymore, and you were worried you had become too soft, too accustomed to a domestic life, that you wouldn't remember how to survive in the woods.

"Last chance," Joel muttered beside you. You glanced up at him and gave him a smirk.

"Nice try," you told him.

With the front gate now in view, you could see three figures huddled in the darkness with only the light from the stable to illuminate them. Tommy noticed you coming first, looking up with a nod and causing Ellie to twist around with a wide grin. When she noticed Joel at your side, her smile faltered a bit, but she didn't say anything.

"You all ready to go?" Tommy asked, sleep still clouding his eyes. Joel nodded, glancing once at Ellie before looking away.

"We're gonna have to go on foot, not enough horses left behind for patrol and Eugene's crew," Maria said regrettably. You weren't bothered. You would be quieter on foot, anyway.

You left through the gate and began heading south through the mountains, your gun lying heavy against your back. When you first arrived in Jackson, it felt strange to not be armed all the time, like you were missing something, but now it was the opposite: you felt hyper aware of the handgun in the back of your jeans and the blade strapped to your ankle. Every step, you felt the objects brush against your skin, the metal irritating and reminding you of the danger that potentially lied ahead.

"Thought he said he wouldn't help take me back home," Ellie said quietly so Joel wouldn't overhear, falling in step next to you.

"Changed his mind," you told her, looking up at the back of his head several feet ahead of you. "See? He isn't so bad."

"Yeah, I guess not," she replied. "Still hates me, though."

"He doesn't hate you, Ellie. He's just frustrated with the whole situation," you assured her.

"Did you... tell him?" she asked you very quietly, and you shook your head quickly.

"Absolutely not," you told her, giving her a serious look. She nodded, looking relieved.

"Well, thanks. For not saying anything, and for coming with me. It's not that I don't like Tommy and Maria, it's just..." she trailed off, not sure how exactly to articulate her feelings, but she didn't have to.

"I know," you said with a smile. "You just like me the best."

She laughed and you grinned, knocking your shoulder into her lightly as you walked.

The group of you made it down the mountains with no issues. No infected, no people, not even any animals. You knew it was due to being so isolated, but it still made you feel a little less anxious. You made decent time the first day, surprising since you had thought Ellie would have slowed you down a bit, but the girl was quick on her feet and kept pace with the adults.

It was nearing September and the weather was usually the most comfortable this time of year. It was still warm, but not as sweltering as it had been. If you had to sleep on the forest floor, at least it wasn't the middle of winter.

You rolled out your sleeping bag next to Joel's, and Ellie rolled hers out near the other side of you. Not next to you, but close. Tommy and Joel had managed to snag a couple rabbits with your old bow, which meant you could conserve the dry goods you brought with you.

Taking watch at night wasn't so bad when there were four of you sharing the burden. It meant your shifts were shorter and much more tolerable. When it was your turn, you couldn't help but glance over at Joel while he slept restlessly on top of his sleeping bag. It was all coming back to you now that you were out in the forest like this. The way you and Joel used to make camp, take watch, hunt, scavenge. You could see the change in him almost immediately: his radar going up, constantly on high alert. He had a knack for survival early on. He knew right away you needed shelter, weapons, food, clothes. And he knew the smartest ways to get all those things. You, on the other hand, were a little slower at learning how to live like this, and this time was no exception. But you felt it coming back to you with each passing hour. You wondered if Joel ever had a hard time readjusting to life out in the wilderness, too, or if he never let it go in the first place.

It took Maria three whole days to finally corner you alone on the trail to talk. You were surprised it took her that long.

"He seems like he came around to this whole thing," she began, nodding in Joel's direction. You shrugged.

"I didn't give him much of a choice," you said with a smirk. "He's convinced something's going to happen, you know how he gets. He's... protective," you said, choosing your words carefully.

"Yeah, I can't really blame him, considering what you guys have been through," she said, glancing over at Tommy who was bringing up the rear. "I imagine if half that shit happened to me and Tommy, he would be a little protective too."

You hummed in agreement, watching Ellie dig her walking stick into the ground with each step she took, leaving little divots in the dirt behind her.

"So," Maria began, clearing her throat. "It kind of feels like something might have happened with you two after that little scare."

You sucked in air through your teeth and glanced nervously behind you at Tommy, making sure he couldn't hear you before replying.

"Didn't exactly go well," you admitted.

"I figured, given that comment at our house the other day," she said.

You caved and gave her the bullet points of the argument, not wanting to chance being overheard. You told her your reservations about having kids, and Joel's assumption that you would want them. You chose to leave out most of the hurtful things each of you had said to the other and focused on your concern about your future together and whether or not you would find a fair compromise.

"You don't even want to get married?" she asked, and you sighed.

"I don't know, Maria. I'm scared and I'm not sure why," you said quietly.

"Well, before the outbreak, did you see yourself getting married and having a family?"

You paused, knowing where she was going.

"Yes," you replied slowly.

"So it's not a matter of never wanting to. It must be a fear related to the outbreak, right?" she asked, and again you shrugged.

"I guess."

"Do you trust him?"

"Of course!" you said, almost insulted.

"Okay, okay. I know you love him, and you trust him, so what else is there? What could possibly make you so scared that you don't want to commit yourself to the man who worships the ground you walk on?" She was really pushing, laying it on thick and trying to drag it out of you.

"Because I'm afraid of losing him," you said quickly, the words tumbling out before you even had a chance to think. You stopped in your tracks, Maria doing the same and motioning for Tommy to walk ahead of you while you collected your thoughts. He gave you both a confused look as he wandered past, but he kept moving. Maria urged you to keep walking so it wouldn't draw the group's attention.

"What do you mean?" she prompted.

"This world we live in now, Maria," you began, focusing your eyes on the ground so you didn't have to look at her. "I'm terrified. Every time he leaves Jackson, I'm terrified he won't come back. Ever since that accident in the barn last year-" you stopped talking. You could feel your throat squeezing shut, remembering how awful it was for those three days when he didn't wake up, anticipating the worst.

"I know," she said, rubbing your arm as she walked next to you. She was there at the infirmary with you that night he was brought in, she remembered what you went through.

"We're so lucky to have found Jackson," you said after taking a deep breath. "But it doesn't mean bad things still can't happen. And I think if we were to get married, if we had that one perfect day filling my memory and Tommy or Jesse or Eugene come back home without him, I would never survive it. And how would I explain that to a child? I'm not strong enough for that."

Tears were streaming steadily down your cheeks now. You did your best to wipe them away with your hand but they were coming too fast. Maria pulled her pack around to her front so she could find a clean rag and handed it to you.

"I think-"

"And then what?" you continued, on a roll now and cutting her off. "I would have this ring on my finger, this constant reminder every single day of what I lost. Because you know I could never take it off. I could never move on. It would just be there, weighing me down every single day until I'm dead!"

You hadn't realized your voice was rising until Tommy turned his head to look at you curiously. You took a shaky breath in and angled your face to the ground so he wouldn't see your tears.

"Fuck, I'm so sorry," you whispered, looking back up at Maria. "You just got engaged and here I am telling you all this horrible shit."

"Actually, everything you just said makes me feel the exact opposite," she said with a grin. You frowned, waiting for her to continue.

"If Tommy weren't to come home one day, I would feel like my world ended, of course. But you know what else?"

You shook your head, your tears finally slowing.

"After all that pain washed away, I would still have that one perfect day filling my memory, just like you said. I would hopefully have kids that I could look at and see a piece of him. Every day. I would have those memories, those moments with me forever. And if I have that, he would never be really gone, you know?"

Her eyes glistened as she spoke, but she was smiling. You blinked at her, rolling her words around in your head, unsure what to do with them.

"Just think about it," she said to you. "Do whatever makes you happy, but don't let fear hold you back. That's no way to live."

You nodded and turned to look back at the rest of the group traipsing through the forest, your eyes landing on Joel last, who was leading you all through the trees. Always so strong, unwavering, and sure of himself. He was a survivor. So what made you doubt him now?

"Just take what we absolutely need, and be quick," Joel told the everyone firmly. You were standing outside a run down gas station somewhere in the middle of Utah, a little more than halfway to Phoenix. "Restock our food, first aid, whatever, and then we're movin' out. We're already behind schedule as it is," he continued, brow furrowed in frustration.

You knew he wanted to get back home, but even he had to admit the trip was going as smooth as possible so far. Only twice did you come across a few infected in your travels, and both times you were able to take them down quietly and without anyone getting hurt. It had been so long since you had seen one, you had nearly forgotten what they looked like. Or maybe as time went on, they just got uglier.

You walked into the store behind Joel, Ellie right on your heels, as you did a quick sweep of the room. It was small and easy to confirm it was safe.

"I'm gonna check out the back, make sure there's no surprises," Maria said softly next to you, and you nodded.

"I'm right behind you," you said.

"No, that's alright, I can do it," she said hurriedly, and before you could protest, she was slipping behind the stockroom door.

"Tommy, c'mere. Let's see if there's any gas left and if any of these cars are workin'," Joel whispered to his brother, and Tommy nodded in agreement, zipping his pack shut after he stuffed it full of expired nuts and beef jerky. Before he left, Joel turned back to you and Ellie.

"Be careful," he said, staring at you, and you nodded. "And no foolin' around," he added, now looking straight at Ellie, refusing to look away until she rolled her eyes and nodded. He ticked his jaw and picked up the gas can he found on one of the shelves, leaving just the two of you to explore.

"Be cool if we got a car," she said to you as she poked around the aisles, looking for anything worthwhile. "My parents never had one."

"Oh, no?"

"I don't think so. Maybe when I was really small they did, but I can't remember. My parents mostly took the bus or trains," she trailed off with a shrug.

"It's been a while since I've been in a car, myself," you murmured, sifting through the dry goods on the shelves.

"Hey, can I ask you something?" Ellie said, looking around to make sure Maria was still in the back.

"Sure," you replied, scrunching your nose at some pop tarts that looked a little past their prime.

"Do you think doctors could make a cure?"

You stopped what you were doing to give her your full attention now.

"I mean, like, with my blood or whatever," she added.

"I don't know, Ellie. Science was never my best subject," you joked.

"But if there were some doctors out there who knew how vaccines were made, do you think they could do it?"

You had never really given the idea of a vaccine much thought. When Ellie told you her secret, you weren't thinking about a vaccine. You were thinking about the rare gift she was given, that being immune would give her the chance at a good, long life. And she deserved to have that with her family.

Then something clicked about the Fireflies.

"Ellie," you said slowly. "The Fireflies. They were based in two different hospitals, right?" She nodded. "Were they trying to develop a vaccine? Is that why they wanted Joel and Tommy to take you to Salt Lake City?"

"Yes," she admitted quietly. You took a deep breath, trying to pick your questions carefully and wondering why she didn't tell you this in the first place.

"And were you okay with that?"

"Not exactly. But Marlene said because I'm a minor, I didn't have a say," she told you.

"That's not true!" you said, feeling your anger flare. "Of course you have a say."

She shrugged, seeming indifferent, but you knew something about it must have bothered her if she brought it up. You were about to ask her more questions when you heard a box fall in the stock room. You whipped your head around and pulled out your gun, ushering Ellie behind you as you made your way over to the door. You nudged it open and peeked inside, your gun pointed at the floor.

"It's alright, it's just me!" Maria called out. You let out a sigh of relief and shoved the gun back in your jeans before pushing the door open all the way, finding Maria hunched over the floor scooping up floss and toothpaste that had spilled from the box.

"Find anything good?" you asked, your eyes roaming over the picked over shelves.

"Uh, not really," she said, shoving the box back against the wall. She stood up to look at you, her hand strategically hidden behind her back as she glanced down at her backpack on the floor near your feet, reaching out a hand.

"Do you mind?" she asked, motioning towards the pack.

"Oh, sure," you said, picking it up and handing it to her. She avoided eye contact and quickly snatched the bag from your grip. You raised an eyebrow at her curiously, but let it go, deciding to grill her later when Ellie wasn't around.

"Oh, cool, check it out!" Ellie exclaimed from the small break room. She popped her head out and raised a comic above her head. "I don't have this one yet!"

"Nice!" you said with a smile. There were so few pleasures the kid had, and that silly comic book series was one of them.

You heard the bell ding from the front of the store, then Tommy calling out Maria's name. The three of you headed back out to find Joel and Tommy waiting for you.

"All good?" Joel asked you.

"Yep. Ready to go?"

"Hell yeah, we are. With a new set of wheels," Tommy said with a grin, leading you out of the store and into the parking lot, where a dark green pickup truck was running idle.

"Wow, a '96 Dodge Ram, my dream car," you said teasingly, and you caught Joel smirk out of the corner of your eye. You took his hand and stopped, letting the others go ahead and pack their things into the truck, talking excitedly amongst themselves.

"This is great, Joel. Thank you," you said, looking up at him and giving his hand a squeeze.

"Don't gotta thank me," he replied. You took a moment to searching his eyes, only to see the affection he held for you reflected right back. Even after everything you put him through, his love for you never wavered. You brought a hand up to cup his cheek, lost in thought, and he gave you a curious look.

"You alright?" he asked. You blinked and dropped your hand.

"Yeah. Let's go," you said. Walking toward the truck, you slipped into the back of the cab where Maria sat behind Tommy with Ellie wedged between you both in the back.

"Let's get as many miles as we can under our belts before sundown," Joel said with a grunt as he lifted himself into the passenger seat in front of you.

"A proper road trip, with gas station snacks and all," Tommy said, shifting the truck into drive and heading out onto the open road.

By the end of the day you had made it to the Arizona border. Joel seemed like he was in a much better mood, either due to the truck or making up time on the road. Probably both. You noticed he even cracked a smile at a dumb joke Ellie told Tommy around the fire. In fact, everyone seemed to be in a good mood, except for Maria. She was unusually quiet and only offered up tight smiles when Tommy and Joel were telling a story and sharing a flask of whiskey.

Guilt began to creep into the back of your mind. She didn't seem bothered by it at the time, but maybe what you said about marriage and children sat with her and now you were giving her doubts, as well.

That night when you woke her up to take her turn on watch, you decided to stay awake a little longer when you knew no one could overhear you and find out what was going on.

"You seemed quiet today, everything okay?" you asked her as she rubbed the sleep from her eyes. She sighed and glanced around at the other three members of your group, confirming they were sound asleep, before standing up from her sleeping bag and picking up her rifle. She tipped her head towards the trees, indicating that you should follow. Once you were far enough away to talk quietly, she stopped to root around in her jacket pocket.

"If this is about what I said yesterday, I am so sorry," you began. "Don't listen to me, I obviously have my own shit to work through and you shouldn't let it effect you and Tommy."

"Huh?" she said, raising an eyebrow until she realized what you meant. "Oh! I already told you, that didn't bother me at all. But the timing of that conversation is kind of ironic..."

"What do you mean?" you asked.

She held something out to you in the dark. You took it from her and stepped more into the moonlight so you could get a better look.

"What is... ohmygod!" you nearly yelled, slapping your hand over your mouth at the last minute to muffle your voice. "Maria!" you whisper shouted, eyes wide, looking back and forth between her and the strip of plastic in your hand. She was grinning like an idiot with tears in her eyes. You pulled her into a tight hug.

"You're pregnant!" you said quietly, and you felt her nod. You stepped back and wiped the tears from your eyes. "Does Tommy know?"

"Not yet, I literally just took it today. I thought maybe I had just put on weight or something, then I was wondering how the hell a fourteen year old can keep up on the trail better than me, and I just had a hunch," she said excitedly.

"Oh, wow," you breathed, looking back down at the test in your hand before giving it back to her. "Congratulations! This is... amazing!"

"Thank you," she said, staring down at the test like she still couldn't believe it. "I'll tell him in the morning. I think I just needed a bit of time to get my head around it, first."

"Yeah, of course," you said, nodding. Then your thoughts drifted to Joel, and as if she was reading your mind, Maria gave you an apologetic look.

"I'm sorry, I know this is a sore topic for you guys-"

"No, don't you dare be sorry. There's nothing to be sorry about. We'll be fine," you assured her.

"Okay," she said, still smiling as she took a deep breath and pocketed the test.

The next morning, Maria pulled Tommy aside to tell him the good news. Joel and Ellie hung their heads over their breakfast sleepily and physically jumped when Tommy's voice carried through the trees. Joel stood up, at first unsure if there was danger, then sat back down in a huff when he saw his brother was smiling.

"Would'ya keep it down?" Joel seethed as Tommy and Maria walked back into earshot. "You're gonna attract attention with all that noise."

"Sorry," Tommy said with a wide grin, looking back at Maria fondly. Joel looked at him expectantly, waiting for Tommy to explain himself. You held your breath when he finally spoke.

"We're gonna have a baby!" Tommy announced gleefully. You stood and gave him a warm smile before enveloping him into a tight hug, whispering congratulations in his ear before moving to Maria to give her the same treatment, pretending it was your first time hearing the news.

"No shit," Ellie was saying with a smirk. She offered Tommy and Maria both an awkward hug. "Congrats!"

Finally, you allowed your gaze to drift over to Joel, who hadn't moved a muscle, staring straight ahead. Your eyes flicked over to Maria nervously then back to Joel, everyone waiting for him to say something.

He was lost in thought, hardly even realizing everyone was looking at him when all he could think about was this should have been us. Ellie cleared her throat loudly and Joel blinked, finally snapping out of his fog. His eyes focused on Tommy and he gave him a weak smile before stretching out his hand and giving him a firm shake.

"Congrats," Joel finally managed to say, the word getting mangled in his throat.

Whatever extra time you had made up the day before using the truck was wasted that morning as Tommy and Maria went back and forth over their options. Ultimately, Tommy wanted to be cautious, and considering how close you were to Phoenix and near the end of your journey, decided he and Maria would head back home early.

You didn't see any harm in them leaving: the trip had been quiet and uneventful. Four of you came along as protection that wasn't even necessary.

Even so, at first you thought Joel would protest. But when his brother decided on his plan, Joel had even offered them the truck, saying "I would probably have done the same thing." A sentence that knocked the wind out of you.

Maria and Tommy each gave Ellie a big hug, and she thanked them for taking her in and getting her back to her family, her tone sincere and eyes a little watery. Ellie went to pack up her things and clean up the camp as you and Joel said goodbye to Tommy and Maria.

"Should only be another day on foot, weather looks like it's gonna hold up," Tommy told you both, glancing up at the clear skies.

"And what if her aunt and uncle... ain't with us anymore?" Joel asked, side-eyeing Ellie to make sure she wasn't listening.

"She was telling me a little bit about them when I asked her where they lived. Which reminds me-" Maria reached into her pack to pull out her map with detailed instructions on how to get to the house, and handed it to Joel. "They sounded like preppers. She said he had what sounded like a bunker, with weapons and cameras and shit. So when you get close, keep an eye out. They don't sound like they take kindly to strangers."

Joel nodded, shoving the map into his pack and sliding it back over his shoulders.

"Alright, then. See you in a week or so," Joel said, giving Tommy another handshake before turning around to help Ellie clean up camp. You gave them both a quick hug one more time.

"You gonna be okay?" Maria asked you once Tommy jumped into the drivers seat of the truck.

"Yeah, of course. Just take care of yourself," you said with a smile.

"I will. And remember: think about what I told you," she replied, narrowing her eyes. "You can't let fear run your life."

"I know," you said, taking a deep breath. "Thanks."

She gave you one last smile before climbing into the cab. They gave you all a quick wave as they made their way back North, the silence that they left behind suddenly deafening.

"You ready?" Joel asked, raising his eyebrows at you. You could feel it. The chasm between you was threatening to grow bigger again, pulling you apart just when you were starting to feel like you made a little progress.

"Yep," you said, adjusting the backpack on your shoulders.

Ellie was unusually quiet as you made your way down Route 89, passing signs along the way for the Grand Canyon. Any other time, you would beg Joel to take a detour so you could see it, but you kept your mouth shut.

"You ever been?" you asked Ellie, nodding towards the sign on the side of the road.

"Yeah, once," she said. "The summer before it happened."

You nodded, understanding she was referring to the outbreak and most likely, one of the last few good memories she had with her parents.

"You?" she asked, and you shook your head.

"I grew up in Chicago, that's pretty far from here. My parents didn't go on many vacations," you explained.

"How about you, Joel?" Ellie asked, and you smiled at her obvious attempt at bonding.

"Never saw it, either," he said gruffly. You looked at him in surprise. You had just assumed he would have seen it at some point in his life.

"Did you - are you from Chicago, too?" she asked, surprised that he didn't snap at her for once.

"No," he said, shaking his head. "Me and Tommy grew up in Texas."

"That's not too far away from here. Would you ever go back to visit?"

Joel scoffed and shook his head.

"It's a big state, kid. Would probably take two weeks to get to Austin from here," he said. "Besides, nothin' left there for me anyway. I was livin' in New York City, moved there when I was 24."

You remained quiet; shocked and pleasantly surprised at how open Joel was being with Ellie. You could tell she was happy, too, by the way she was asking more questions to keep him talking.

By the end of the day, you had made it to the city limits of Phoenix. Joel had found a somewhat secluded area near a small stream to set up camp, deciding to venture into the city in the morning. Once you felt confident Ellie had fallen asleep, you wandered out to find Joel keeping first watch, sitting against a tree. You cleared your throat quietly as you approached, but he already knew you were there.

"Hey," you said softly, leaning up against the tree.

"You should get some rest, we got a long day tomorrow," he replied without looking at you.

"I know. Just came to see if you wanted to talk about it."

He took a deep breath and shifted his weight on the ground.

"Not much to say," he replied distantly.

You could tell you weren't going to get much out of him, so you nodded and pushed yourself off the tree, turning to head back to camp.

"Do you think you could ever change your mind?" he asked you suddenly. You stopped and turned around. Your chest ached at the way he looked at you, eyes all wide and soft and hopeful.

"I'm trying," you whispered. And you meant it.

Tag List @nana90azevedo @ninaminaromina @untamedheart81 @taz-97 @nastiasnow @amyispxnk @plz-be-solo @iloveramensm @caitlynsixxx @anoverwhelmingdin @harriedandharassed @jessthebaker @txtattoostark @merz-8

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gotta-winwin · 6 days ago

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2019 debut year special <> you do too much pt 2

word count: 2.8k TW: anxiety, hurt, angst, comfort, mentions of hit the road trauma italics are in english, bolded words are in mandarin

She supposed she should've expected tour to be difficult. The first couple legs of their An Ode tour were fine, Cyana had gone in wide-eyed and immensely happy to be sharing the stage with her found family. She liked how she was able to hear the cheers of their fans every night and how it lingered even after the concert. She was still nervous about returning to LA for their North American leg, but Joshua had promised he'd make it okay. Cyana always had a strong love for travelling, and was glad she could do it while performing.

Everything started to go sideways moments before landing in Jakarta.

"1-10, Cyana?" Jun touched her shoulder gently to catch her attention. They were waiting at the airport for the others to get through security.

She blinked. "7." It was a system she had started with the boys, finding that asking for a number was easier than asking how their condition was. It was easier for them to answer to, if the pain was rated on a scale. She had deemed anything lower than a 4 to be dangerous and a cause of worry. So far nobody had reported anything lower than 6. Thank god. "What about you?" She asked back. She had noticed the heavy eye bags despite Jun covering his face with a hat.

The boy shrugged. "7 too. Just tired."

She turned, about to tap Dino and ask him the same question, when Wonwoo stood up, startling them all. He had been napping and his sudden movement was unexpected.

"What's going on?" Jun asked, grabbing Wonwoo's elbow to steady the boy.

"They're here." Wonwoo nodded to the rest of the group, who had finished security and was approaching them. He nudged Dino awake with his foot. "Let's go. I need to crash on the plane."

Cyana grabbed her bag, grateful the staff had taken all their luggage. In her drowsy state, she would have a higher chance of forgetting her things than anything else. Shuffling to Seungcheol's side, she walked to match his pace. It was unusual that she could, most times Seungcheol walked too fast for her to keep up.

"Cheol? Number?" She asked, her eyes betraying her worry. Joshua looked over from Seungcheol's other side with as much worry as she felt.

Seungcheol seemed to struggle to even compute the question. "5." He mumbled, glancing at them both. "I'm fine."

Cyana's eyebrows furrowed. "That's low."

"Not a 4." Seungcheol countered. "Don't push it." The tone of his voice sounded more weak than stern.

Cyana could only look at Joshua, who shrugged. She remembered what he had told her just this morning, when she complained to him she just wanted to strap Seungcheol down so that he could rest.

"You can't help people who don't want to be helped." He had told her, although he looked just as distraught. "Coups needs to want to help himself first. Before we can do anything."

Now, looking at the boy in question, she felt eerily as if he wasn't there at all, like some shell of their leader was the one walking next to them instead.

"Can I stay with you tonight?" Cyana pleaded with Jeonghan, who looked mildly bemused under his tired state. "All Mingyu and Hoshi does is snore."

That pulled a laugh out of him. Jeonghan was another member on Cyana's worry radar, and if Mingyu and Hoshi's snoring could gain her a ticket into keeping an eye on Jeonghan, she would take it.

"Okay." Jeonghan relented, moving over to let her into his hotel room. "But just tonight. Don't get too comfortable." He gave her a teasing smile. "You might get too attached."

Cyana frowned. "Big headed much?"

She was glad to see him laugh. She knew how much his body had been aching during this tour. Every time she looked over after a song and saw a brief look of pain flash across his face, she felt a heavy pang in her stomach. On any other circumstance she would've quipped that it was because he was old. But that was the exact reason why it scared her so much: Seungcheol and Jeonghan were getting old and so were their bodies. She wished desperately that they could be young forever.

Sliding into bed, she heard Jeonghan shuffle to turn off the lights before joining, tugging the blanket away from her with a cheeky giggle. Pulling back equally hard, they finally settled in a standstill as they both stared up at the ceiling.

"Number?" Jeonghan whispered into the dark.

"8." There had been no concert today. Cyana felt fine. "Less tired. You?"

"Mentally I'm at a 9. But physically, more like a 6." He admitted.

"Sit out of the next concert, please." Cyana pleaded into the darkness. It helped that neither of them could see each others faces. It was in darkness where it was easiest to talk.

She could hear him breathe as he thought. "I want to perform. For Carats."

"They'll be sad that you're not there, sure." Cyana agreed. "But they'll be even more upset if you die."

Jeonghan laughed. "Oh, our little pessimist." He cooed good naturally. "I'm not going to die."

"It feels like you might." She admitted out loud for the first time. "Every time you take off your shirt for taping it's like you're withering away."

There was silence, and Cyana started to fear she may have overstepped.

"You worry too much." Jeonghan finally said. "If it gets too much before our concert tomorrow, I'll sit out. Promise."

She nodded, although he couldn't see it. "Good. If only Cheol was as cooperative as you."

"You've got his stubbornness, that's for sure." Jeonghan let out a loud sigh. "He's not doing well."

"I've noticed." Cyana agreed. "It's kinda hard not to."

"His mind's not doing well." Jeonghan corrected himself after a pause. "I'm been trying to get him to take a break. See a doctor. Admit he's going a little crazy. He-" Jeonghan's voice cracked. "You know he scrolls through SNS like a ritual? He'll just sit there and read comments. I can always tell when he reaches a particularly cruel one cause he just sits there."

"He hasn't been talking much during filming either." Cyana recalled. "He used to like filming for Going."

"Dieting too." Jeonghan added. "Even though I told him he's fine the way he is."

"He told Hoshi he doesn't see himself being an idol after his contract ends."

Jeonghan froze, and Cyana could tell by the way his arm suddenly stiffened from next to her. He hadn't known.

"I thought he would've told you." She added lamely, feeling like she had definitely said something wrong.

"I guess not." Jeonghan sighed after awhile. "We're a mess, Nana. You joined at a bad time."

Cyana hummed, rolling over to lean her head against his. "That's okay. Maybe it was just meant to be. I'll fix it. I'll fix him."

Jeonghan wrapped an arm around her. "I like that idea actually. You and us all being meant to be."

It was only because she was listening too hard, so concentrated, that she could tell exactly what moment Jeonghan fell asleep, his arm still around her. She told herself to sleep too, she would need all the energy she had if she wanted to help Seungcheol and perform tomorrow.

"We go on in twenty minutes!" One of the event coordinators called out towards the members who had all gathered in the green room. Cyana adjusted her stage outfit, tilting her head up to give her makeup artist easier access. Her eyes flitted around the room as she mentally counted her members. She knew it was the leader's job and she had no business stepping in for a weary Seungcheol as the youngest, but she felt as if she had to. She was easily the most well rested out of them all.

"Number?" She mouthed at Mingyu, who she briefly caught eye contact with.

He merely flashed back an ok sign and a bright smile. She knew he was telling the truth. If there was one thing Seungcheol enforced the most it was their strict 'no lies' policy.

The man in question sat bleary-eyed on the couch, seemingly out of it.

"Are we almost finished?" Cyana mumbled to her makeup artist, who was busy touching up her lips. "I need to go speak to Cheol."

She shook her head. "Not yet."

Cyana sighed as Jeonghan approached her, wincing as he rolled his shoulders. "I think I'm heading out." He leaned down to whisper into her ear.

Her eyes widened. "Really? Good." She eyed his shoulder warily. "Does it hurt a lot?" She asked.

He nodded. "I can barely remember our choreo. Figured I would do better not embarrassing myself onstage tonight."

She let out a sad laugh, stopping quickly when her makeup artist scolded her for moving. "Is Cheol going too?" She wondered hopefully.

Jeonghan shrugged before wincing at the movement. "He hasn't said anything. I'm gonna go to the car before I pass out." He offered weakly, waving towards the staff who was waiting for him at the exit. "Have fun. Be safe." He reminded her, pressing a light kiss to the top of her head before leaving.

She waited impatiently for her makeup artist to finish. Hoshi found her next, murmuring into her ear about position changes they needed to make without Jeonghan here.

"Scratch that and make us 12." She whispered back, moving once she got a green light from her makeup artist. "Cheol's not performing tonight."

Hoshi looked at her, surprised. "He finally agreed?"

Cyana shook her head. "I'll convince him."

He scoffed. "Good luck with that. We've all been trying since last week."

It felt like the longest twenty minutes Cyana had ever experienced.

"Go back to the hotel, Cheol." She begged, fixing his hair so it wouldn't fall into his eyes.

"I'm fine." He insisted again, turning his head away from her. The stubborn piece of hair fell back where it was before.

They'd been at this for hours, it felt like. She was blindly aware of the amount of eyes that were on them, watching who'd win the mental battle.

"Number?" She asked, hoping he'd give her the truth this time.

"7."

She couldn't help but scoff. "You're lying again. We said no lying about the number system."

He finally looked up from the ground to shoot her a glare. "I'm not lying."

"I don't want to fight, Cheol." She sighed. "We're worried. You're not doing okay."

His shoulders dropped as he looked away again. "I can do this concert."

"Hannie oppa's going home." She offered, knowing it'd make him feel better not to be the only one dropping out. It was almost silly, his pride and responsibility.

He looked at her with surprise before quickly averting his eyes again. "Jeonghan's leaving?"

"He's in the car waiting for you. His shoulders aren't feeling well." Cyana grabbed his hand and tried to pull him off the couch. "Please." She begged again.

Resigned, Seungcheol stood up, wavering as he called their manager over with a feeble wave. They both stared at him, watching as he tried to form words into sentences.

"I think-" He broke off, before picking up again. "I think I need a break."

It was like a dam cracked open. Cyana let out a harsh sigh of relief as she watched their manager take Seungcheol away, presumably into the car with Jeonghan and back to the hotel.

"He'll be okay." Minghao joined to stand next to her. He took her hand, gently leading her towards the stage entrance. "Game face on, Yue Liang. We can worry later."

She nodded, knowing he was right. They were resting and safe and that was all that mattered. She'd be back to them in a couple hours anyways.

Cyana cracked open the door to Seungcheol's room as quietly as possible. She knew he was awake, the lights were on despite it being nearly 3AM. The concert had gone smoothly despite the missing members and she knew Seungcheol would appreciate an update.

"Cheolie?" She called into the room, walking in and see the leader standing on the balcony. She slid open the balcony door and stepped out to join him.

He turned around at the sound of the door opening immediately, frowning and opening his mouth to scold her when he saw how little she was wearing.

"Stop." Cyana held a hand up before he could go on his rant.

"You should be wearing a jacket." He said either way. "You'll catch a cold."

"I'm okay." She moved to stand next to him and looked out at the city landscape. "Everything went really well today. Carats had fun."

She received back nothing but silence. Still, she continued. "DK led the skit and he roped Vernon in with him. They somehow got me involved too. I was nervous, but it ended up being lots of fun." She paused to glance up at Seungcheol, who had his eyes trained on the night sky. "I went and said hi to Jeonghan before coming here. He's okay. Worried about you. We all are."

She watched as his eyes seemed to quiver and glisten with forming tears.

"Minghao told me it was just part of the job, going onstage and pretending like everything wasn't just chaos. It was hard. I don't know how any of you do it. Vernon told me it's not like America, where we can just take a break whenever we wanted to and have people understand." She stopped talking again, wishing he'd say something. It was odd for her to be the one talking the most.

"I think people would understand though. You've all worked so hard and people can see it. You should've heard how loud they were cheering you and Jeonghan's names today. It was like you guys were there anyways." She smiled softly at the memory. "We'll be here for a long time, Cheol. You can step back for a little while."

There was a pause as a particularly strong gust of wind passed them, diverting both their attentions.

"I think-" His voice was quiet but she could hear him. "I think I need a break." He echoed the same words he had said hours ago. "I talked to manager-hyung and-" His voice broke. "he said it was okay. If I stopped for a bit."

Cyana nodded. "We'll be okay without you for awhile, Cheol. You don't need to carry so much on your back. There's 14 of us for a reason, we can all take a little bit of the burden."

He was still staring off into the night sky, giving no sign he had really heard her. "It just felt like if I stopped even for one second, the world might spin too fast and lose me." He continued. "Like I needed to be there every moment."

Cyana could relate to the feeling. "I know." She had the same problem. "Someone once told me it's okay to step off the world for a little bit. To stop chasing the cycle and to breathe."

"It spins too fast." He whispered, finally looking at her. She felt a pang in her chest when she noticed there were tears tracking silently down his face. "The world spins too fast."

Cyana nodded ruefully. "Yeah, sometimes it does that." She tried to smile, reaching up to wipe his tears away with her sleeve. "Don't cry, Cheol."

He sniffed, looking down at her and giving a weak smile back. "We've been doing a lot of that recently, huh."

She laughed, and he watched her throw her head back as the sound echoed into the night. He couldn't help but smile at the sight. "It's okay." She said, coming back to him. "Crying is good sometimes."

"You're good at this." He mused. "Comforting people. Maybe you should replace Jeonghan as SEVENTEEN's therapist. Surely you'd do much better. He usually just listens and then starts scolding."

She shook her head. "That's okay. Feelings still make me iffy." Shivering suddenly as another gust of wind blew past, she patted Seungcheol awkwardly on the back. "Good talk. You're okay now, right? It's cold."

He let out a breathy laugh. "I'm better now. Go inside, I'll be in in a moment." He turned back to look out at the city's nightlife.

Cyana moved back into the hotel room, shivering as she grabbed one of his spare zip-ups from the couch and pulled it on. Pulling out her phone, she selected her conversation with Jeonghan, typing out a text.

me: seungcheol, fixed!

She smiled, amused when she saw him immediately start typing back.

hannie: you're the best.

Liking the message, she was about to swipe out and peruse the ramen packets Seungcheol had laid out on the coffee table when another text popped up on her screen.

dino: we're in hoshi's room. got ramen.

Sending Dino a silent thank you, she called back into the room as she opened the door to leave. "I'm going to Hoshi's!" She knew Seungcheol would need his silence.

A quiet grunt of acknowledgement came from the balcony as she closed the door behind her.

She knew Seungcheol was a long way from being completely fixed and fine again. She knew Jeonghan's body was still a long way from healthy. She knew they still had months of tour left over without the two. Yet, just like she had told Seungcheol, the world would keep spinning, and Seventeen would come back stronger in 2020 then ever before.

a/n: more angst for you guys (..◜ᴗ◝..) we're officially kicking off into hit the road era!

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ywpd-translations · 3 months ago

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Ride 788: Two people stepping on!!

Pag 1

4: Let's do it, Manami-kun

Pag 2

1: I've been waiting to hear those words!!

3: Sakamichi-kun!!

Pag 3

2: The sky is blue

3: The birds are chirping too

4: The slope is continuing before my eyes

Pag 4

1: There's nothing that could disturb us anymore!!

Pag 7

2: Huh... those two...

Wait....

On the first day's mountain!?

4: It's Manami and the Mountain King!!

Pag 8

1: They're so fast!!

2: So!!

3: ooree!!

4: Manami is accelerating again!!

Amazing!!

Pag 10

1: Mountain King caught up to him and kept going ahead!!

2: I'll follow....!!

Even if you step on, I'll follow you!!

3: You're ahead again!? Amazing

My chest hurts and my heart rate is going up

This feeling!! This is....

Pag 11

1: what makes me feel alive the most!!

2: Manami-kun

Since earlier, I, too

3: I thought that I shouldn't and that I just had to hold it back

But climbing a slope like this with you.... no matter what....

Pag 12

1: It's making me smile!!

2: I'm having fun!!

Pag 13

1: I'm not holding that back either!!

4: Is okay to... smile?

Even though it's a serious race

5: “There's no second time”

I always think like that

7: It's the Inter High, and it's the first day. There's nothing tying us down

The mountain prize race

This situation, this time, it definitely won't happen again

8: Even if you prepare, you can't reproduce it

Pag 14

1: So it's definitely better to spend this time smiling!!

3: Otherwise

Pag 15

1: It's a waste!!

Pag 16

1: The number “13” means bad luck in European races, so out of superstition there's the custom of wearing the number bib upside down

Woah- huh!? Those two....

2: Since old times cyclists have done so of their own initiative

3: Nowadays a lot of the tournaments' organizers print the number bib upside down

4: In road racing, small details influence a race

In this year's Inter High it was printed upside down

5: I wonder if it's thanks to that

Or maybe it's unrelated

6: But this year, from the first day

Really

Pag 17

1: I'm having the best time!!

3: Ah, ah... wait... Iitsuka-san!!

What is it, Tomaribata!!

4: We're climbing at an high pace....!!

But I see two shadows behind us!!

5: Yeah... I see them...

Besides...

Pag 18

1: They're both smiling!!

Pag 19

1: Here they passed the local Fukuoka Josei's “mountain shogun”!!

Manami and the Mountain King are climbing with an incredible energy!!

They're so fast!!

Their speed is on another level!!

Fukuoka keep following!!

Pag 20

1: Chase them!!

Don't talk nonsense!!

They're so bright, those two

Don't admire them!!

3: Thanks to everyone else I could catch up safely to Manami-kun and can run properly

Thank you so much

4: I will do my best and run as hard as I can

6: Rokudai-kun.... are you following the orders?

#yowamushi pedal #yowapeda #yowamushi pedal translations #yowapeda manga #yowamushi pedal manga #yowamushi pedal spoilers #ride 788 #THEY'RE SO CUTE I LOVE THEM ;A;#but also #YOU DIDNT GIVE ROKU-CHAN HIS ORDERS ONODA #i knew this was gonna happen I KNEW IT #(maybe he gave him his orders off screen???? and we're gonna see it later???? idk)

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pixi4 · 19 days ago

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**OBX SPOILERS**

Can we talk about the fact that Obx4 is not about good plot, writing or character based story. It's about shock value and fan service.

JJ Maybank, who literally hasn't had a moment of happiness in the 4th season, gets killed by the end so that were shocked and hooked for the next season.

We get one shot of him dead, his friends barely even crying and them BOOM gets buried in the fucking ground in the place that's not even his home, literally plopped into the fucking ground like a piece of rock. Audiences don't even get time to process his random ass death and suddenly John Bs stupid ass monologue shows the flashbacks of JJ and how he was a good friend and all that shit.

If people who WROTE this fucking show can't understand that JJs character goes FAR beyond just being a good friend, then I guess I'm not even surprised by the end.

We were CONSTANTLY shown aspects of JJ that in some other universe would've been properly explored. He's clutches his chest constantly, perhaps suggesting he's got a heart thing or breathing difficulty, his home life is shit and not a single adult gives a fuck. John B is practically stalked by the CPS in season 1, but no one bat's an eye at the fact that Luke abuses JJ. He's got dyslexia and kleptomania which is only ever played for laughs meanwhile Cleos kleptomania is regarded as a serious thing she had to do to survive. He can never sit still and constantly switches back and forth, obviously ADHD coded. Whenever gang argued before, JJ used to pace around and put hands over his ears suggesting he has some bits of PTSD from unstable home environment.

All of THAT exists and is true about JJ yet in John B fucking monologue he's reduced to just "a good friend" ????

Literally NOTHING of his trauma is explored or even touched upon aside from that bit in season 1. NO ONES trauma is explored except for Sarah's (no hate to her) and John Bs.

Fuckin bs.

Imagine being given up by your dad (who killed your mother btw) to a morally questionable man such as Luke, who then proceeds to beat you and emotionally manipulate and torment your for years, neglecting you and abusing you. To then suddenly being told you're not actually his and that all that beating and abuse COULD'VE been avoided had someone actually wanted you. Then you meet the said biological father only for him to lie to you, manipulate you, gaslight you, scam you, attempt to kill you once and then fucking succeed in killing you..... The amount of disrespect for JJs character.

Fuckin Luke, the biggest abuser is JJs story is alive and well and FUCKING JAIL FREE??? WHILE JJ IS IN THE GROUND???

The angry faces of others and Kiaras "revenge" implies that season 5 will be about seeking revenge and sinking further into darkness in order to right the wrongs of JJs murder. But guess what?? Sarah's pregnant. That storyline itself is basically ensuring that happy ending is in sight. For basically all of them, because as Kie said: takes a village (to raise a baby). Motherly vibes are gonna spread their positive energy and then they'll heal and John B will most likely give another boring ass monologue about how People die but they also live and heal and shit and how everybody deserves happiness with shots of the gang raising the kid and riding off into the sunset....

Guess who fucking deserved happy ending THE MOST out of all of them???

JJ fucking Maybank.

Every season of obx focuses on on Pogue. 1.- John B, 2.-Pope, 3.- Kie. Imagine waiting for your own season only for your character to constantly be dealt the worst of cards, be perpetually disregarded and have shit go from worse to worse to in the end fucking die randomly???? If I was Rudy Pankow I'd fuckin sue.

The shit that pisses me off the most is that it's so painfully obvious that Rafe will inevitably get a redemption arc and his own happy ending, possibly even with Kie since people love to ship her with a man who's a) mentally and emotionally not at all alright b) is a murderer who never served his time and got one of her friends framed for it causing him to literally be chased out of his own home for crime he did not commit while he was still a minor c) has tried to kill her d) has tried to kill her best fucking friend, who is his own fucking sister

Infatuation with sociopath men in media HAS to stop. But it most likely will not stop any time soon and JJ is yet another victim of shipping wars.

I can't even read stupid ass fanfics anymore because I'll always remember that JJ is not alive in the Canon anymore.

Who ever gave the green light in the making of the end of season 4, sincerely and disrespectfully, I fucking hate you.

My disappointment is immeasurable and my day is ruined.

#outer banks #jj maybank #obx #obx4 #obx 4 spoilers

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befemininenow · 8 months ago

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Some of us change, and for the better. If you haven't yet, what could you change?

Well, this one is a longer description than what I've been writing during special days. I've been debating on making changes for the blog, as well my improving on my personal needs. I haven't been able to enjoy anything these past few months due to work, bills, and other circumstances in my life. I've been wanting to enjoy this 2024, but it seems that it hasn't been any better.

It's currently April and the spring season is supposed to be a fresh new start for everyone. I always felt that April is the perfect month to adjust towards the new year and initiate those plans you had during your New Year's Resolution, but have never started. 90 days is usually enough time to adjust and I think we're well above 90 days to make an excuse. Well, no more excuses.

See, it's been exactly a year since I made my "retirement" post. However, I did so at an impulsive rate and lapsed back to uploading captions again. Then, on June of last year, I did so again. I uploaded a new caption or two between June and September before uploading more captions around October until now. Yet again, I didn't last.

I come to the conclusion that as much as I love making captions, it's been affecting my actual life. Caption making isn't as easy as it seems. Not only do you have to find good pictures, but you also have to create a meaningful message relating to the picture. Sometimes, you even have to give a detailed description either because the message can't fit in the entire picture or because I have to spice up the post. Then, you have to make sure the caption looks good because the wrong color, font, space, etc, can make it look ugly. It doesn't have to be this stressful, but it got to the point where it took a chunk of my free time and left me with a lack of satisfaction.

You may be asking yourself if this is another "retirement" post where I'm going to quit and come back again. Let me make this statement clear because as the saying goes "Third time's a charm": I'm not going to retire. Yet. However, don't be surprised if I go without uploading a new caption for 3 or 5 days. Chances are, I'm probably either busy with other errands in my life or because I need a proper vacation that allows me to enjoy my other hobbies. Feminization captions aren't my personality, y'know.

When and how I will conclude this blog will be a surprise I will unveil one day. Maybe next week, next month, maybe even next year. But for now, I'm going to make a change with this blog based at my own pace. This caption (No. 505) is a preview of what you will expect to see for the next several captions: basic, simple, effective, and of course, attractive. Also, for the first time since forever, I will upload captions without a post description. All of my captions have at least a small description of what the post is about. This time, there will be some caption posts without description because I believe the caption is enough to detail what the topic will be about.

For now, this is the future of this blog. I promise you that the next captions will be great. I put more effort and love into them and I hope you love them as well. Have a great night, everyone!

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thesleepyfable · 1 month ago

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~ SWTD: Still Here AU Part 19: ~

No One to Dance With?:

Originally, I was going to have Trots reveal he didn't have any living relatives, so no one would come to see him. But, then we learned about Simon's deleted existence. Hopefully, I do him justice.

TW: One mention of Anti-LGBT and underage drinking.

Chapter 20:

5 years ago.

The Golden Eagle Pub was lively. Filled with its final patrons before Christmas. Singles and couples left it at standing room only. Music blared in the background of the smoke-filled building. Some couples danced in an open space. Teenagers, who were clearly underage, purchased their first beer. The Barmen didn't care. As long as they were getting money in the till. And nestled in the corner was Trots.

His tired eyes watched the couples, and he felt a sense of loneliness. Gibbo didn't come this evening because Jack was sick, and O'Connor went home with Mary last week. He looked away when his eyes locked with a woman and accepted that this was going to be another empty Christmas. Now, he stared at the half-empty glass of beer, unable to find the energy to drink it.

Yep. Another empty Christmas.

'Maybe I should have stayed on the rig?'

No one gave Trots any thought, but he felt unwelcome. Everyone in high spirits, he was the ominous cloud. The Ebenezer Scrooge. With a small sigh, he got up to leave. Then he heard a glass of beer being placed on the table.

'Thinkin' too much?' Trots didn't reply. He was too surprised by the stranger's handsome appearance, his eye widening and his jaw going slack. The man raised a brow. They both knew. 'Mind if I sit here?'

'Oh!' Trots said a little too loud for comfort. He recoiled, forcing his eyes to look away. Thankfully, the music and noise from the other patrons drowned out his voice. He coughed as a way to compose himself. 'Not at all.' The man didn't hesitate to sit down, but he kept a small distance. You had to. Unless you wanted the world to know your 'sinful secret.'

'So, you didn't answer my question.'

'Well, I guess I am,' Trots said with a shrug, his finger absent-mindedly tapping the glass. 'Christmas isn't the best time of year for me.'

'That's a shame.' The man took a swig of his beer. 'Christmas should be the best time of year for everyone.'

'Well, if I'm not here, I'm in the middle of the North Sea.'

'And, why would you go there?'

'For my job. Oil rigs need someone to keep them from tipping over.'

'And that's where you come in? Sounds like Hell on Earth.'

'Aye, and you're not wrong there.' This was a nice change of pace. 'What about you?'

'I drive a bus, so not nearly as exciting as you.'

'At least you stay on land.' The pair shared a chuckle. Trots still couldn't bring himself to finish his now flat beer. He was too enamoured by the man, but his eyes lingered back to the dance floor when another song began to play, making the locals dance and cheer again.

'No one to dance with?'

'No one to dance with.'

'Same. I mean. If we could, we should.' Trots was taken aback by the stranger's forwardness, despite himself being so quick to mention his work. He was stunned. Good thing they were huddled in the corner. It was especially good for him because Trots felt his face go completely red. He ran a hand over his face and mouth, but he couldn't stop himself from looking at the man, who was clearly finding it amusing. 'What's your name, handsome?'

'J-Johnathan.' Trots hadn't noticed the man had moved closer to him until he touched and played with his ear. Why did that make him feel good?

'Well, Johnny. How about we go and find somewhere we can dance?'

'Okay,' Trots replied, his voice breathless. The edges of his mouth formed a tiny smile. 'But what's your name?'

'...Simon...'

After what felt like an eternity, the pair broke eye contact. Simon's eyes lingered down to where The Shape had taken Trots. The look of shock turned to one of sadness. Maybe guilt. Guilt for not being there. His eyes were transfixed on the veins that pulsated through the discoloured flesh and small bubbled pockets of fat that appeared between the creases. He didn't know what to think. Trots began to understand how Muir felt last night.

'I know how this looks.' Trots stuttered through his words. In his panic, he thought he saw Simon take a step back, causing him to let go of the shovel and fall into the snow. In reality, Simon only shifted his weight because he wasn't correctly dressed for the snow. 'Fuck,' he muttered. What a sad state. He quickly reached for the shovel and pulled himself up whilst he adjusted his glasses. He could use his tendrils, but he didn't want to scare Simon off. The man didn't like surprises, and he certainly got one already. 'Look. I-I know I'm disgusting to look at, but-'

Simon approached and pulled Trots up by wrapping his arm under Trots' armpit. It certainly silenced the Health and Safety manager. He didn't think Simon would touch him, but he was so relieved he did. Simon wrapped his other arm around his chest, touching his exposed ribs. He didn't recoil though, just moved his hand further up when he noticed Trots shiver. 'Did you lose weight?' That broke the tension. Trots' look of surprise slowly vanished to relief. A smile graced his lips. He held back a laugh.

'No. Simon. I'm serious.' His smile didn't weaver though, and Simon picked up on that, who leaned his head against him before sneaking in a kiss on the cheek. Trots felt his heart melt.

Together, they made their way back to the porch. Trots sat in the rocking chair whilst Simon leaned against a beam. Seeing Trots struggle to do something as simple as getting into a chair stung. A knife to the heart.

'What the fuck did you get yourself into this time?'

'Well, it's not like I did this on purpose.'

'Then what happened?'

'I needed a new way to get the Union going.' A terrible joke with a forced smile. But Simon didn't smile back. Nor did he laugh. He kept his arms crossed and waited. The time for jokes was currently on pause. Trots' smile dropped, and he shuffled in his chair. 'I...I don't really know.' Simon listened to Trots tell his story from his perspective. From how the drill had hit something, to him hiding in the crew lounge, then finally his infection. How The Shape took his wrist when he went to see what was wrong at the window, moving up his arm as parts of it dug under his fingernails. The rest entered his mouth, turning him into a puppet before everything went black for several minutes. He had no idea why The Shape gave him a slug-like body and not something akin to Rennick or Addair. The only thing Trots could be thankful for, was that it gave him his upper body back.

Throughout it all, Simon's face turned into horror. How? How could something like that happen? And, why Trots? What did he do to deserve this?

'Eventually, Caz found me and then I saw myself. What I'd become. I want to be sick. The smell was awful. P-Probably still is.' It wasn't. 'I was just angry at everything. My mind was everywhere and nowhere at the same time.' A whimper escaped his mouth and Trots' hands began to shake as he recounted his memories. It was an eerie blur. Moments of clarity quickly came as they went, and it scared him. The Shape knew he was frustrated with the working condition and how messy the crew were, but Trots knew looking back that wasn't him. Somehow, it had twisted him into something he couldn't recognise. 'I wanted to hurt people, Simon.'

Simon quickly moved and knelt besides his lover, who by now, was fighting tears. The look of horror became a mix of pain and sympathy. Like telling a child their parent had passed away. Trots' glasses began to fog. Simon removed them, only to now get a good look at the glossed and grey hues that replaced the deep blue. 'I called out for you, but you didn't answer.' Now, the tears began to flow. 'You weren't there.'

'But, I'm here now, Johnny.'

Simon pulled him in for a hug. Trots clung to his coat. He didn't want to let go. If he did, would he vanish? They stayed like that for at least thirty seconds before Simon broke the hug, moving his hands to rest on Trots' shoulders. His soft smile returned. He reached and played with Trots' ear to help the man calm down. It worked, and that feeling of Trots' heart melting, whilst his face went red, returned. Trots held Simon's wrist. His head leaned into his hand, and he closed his eyes for a moment.

'I'll never go back. I promise.'

'Good. I missed you.'

'No one to dance with?'

'No one to dance with.'

A sense of calm wrapped the pair up like a warm blanket. All their worries disappeared. Neither of the men thought of what might happen in the future. Trots will never live a normal life again. They both knew that. But, right now, who cares? The warmth brought them close and in for a kiss.

Trots cupped Simon's face in his hands. Simon wrapped his arms around Trots' chest, and just for a minute, reality vanished around them.

#My Writing #Still Wakes the Deep #Still Wakes the Deep: Still Here AU

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otakubimbo · 3 months ago

Text

The Rabbit and The Wolf

I love you????

Kakashi confessed to you and now you must deal with your feelings while going on a mission with him. How's that gonna go?

MDNI. MATURE CONTENT.

Ch 1 2 3 4 5 6

master list

OBnote: Please don't hate me, I know I said this would come out a lot sooner but I'm just a girl????

It takes you a moment to really register everything that is going on and then the panic starts. . You’re completely flustered, mouth agape but no words can be formed. You don’t know what to do. You don’t know what to say, what could you say?

“I’m sorry for being a coward,” he says still holding your gaze strongly and you can’t do anything else but nob, eyes glossing over as if you were going to cry.

Your childhood best friend said he was currently in love with you. He confessed that he was currently in love with you and has been since that night after your sister's wedding. Before you could even try to wrap your mind around everything that was going on, his face started leaning down towards yours as he went to pull his mask down. Now it was your time to be the coward, you had never made hand signs faster in your life to get the fuck out of there.

Kakashi sighs at the emptiness in front of him. He didn’t really know what to expect from you after his confession and attempt at kissing you. Well, he didn’t expect you would just vanish, maybe yell a little, or be mad and confused. Anything other than disappearing completely. He did see the panic in your eyes before you decided to vanish, but it felt good to finally be honest with you. Above all you were a professional, so he had no doubts in his mind about the success of the mission. He just didn’t know what was going to happen between the two of you now that you knew how he felt that he had been feeling this way for years and never had the guts to confront his feelings for you. There was only one person he could talk to about this, and it was your sister. With a heavy sigh, he turns and makes his way back to the hospital to explain the situation to your sister.

After pouring his heart for the second time today, your sister couldn’t help but chuckle at the two of you. She didn’t expect such a development to occur today, but it was so cute seeing the two of you both flustered over each other, Kakashi more upfront about his feelings than you were currently.

“I did not expect her to be so dramatic, even though, “she begins as she holds back another laugh that was brewing at the imagine of you just pooling away in front of him, “it's not her first time being dramatic”

Kakashi wasn’t as amused by your behavior as it seems your sister was, he really didn’t know what to do at that moment. He had never been good at love or feelings, especially when it came to you. And now here sat the great Kakashi Hatake, the copycat ninja pouting in front of your sister over you. She couldn’t help but find it amusing. “Oh, don’t be like that. I’m sure it was a lot for her to hear that from you. She panicked, be it dramatically but I know she feels the same about you as you do about her.”

Her words don’t do anything to relieve his stress over this situation. He just poured his heart out to you, confessing something that he had held onto for a year, and you didn’t even respond, just left.

“Y'all have been in love with each other since your first Anbu missions together. You know I’ve always said that you two would get married. She just got a little panicked and ran, you know she takes after our dad.” Your sister chuckled to herself; you

were your father's daughter. Emotions get too much, time to cut and run. That’s part of the reason you became one of the youngest Anbu’s along with Kakashi, you put all your emotions into training instead of into the death of your mother.

Kakashi knew your sister was right but that didn’t stop all the negative thoughts that were occupying his brain. You on the other hand were probably in worse shape, pacing back and forth in Kurenais' living room.

“What am I going to do?” You ask mainly for yourself. Your friend is trying to keep her composure and not laugh at you. Anyone could have seen this coming, especially you the signs were all there especially more recently but here you were pacing in her house like it was all a surprise that man was in love with you.

“You could tell him that you feel the same.” She offers which makes you stop in your tracks to stare at her as if she had just grown a second head.

“That’s insane” You comment before continuing to pace. Again, she tries not to laugh at you.

You were so dramatic, it’s so obvious that you’re both in love with each other. Why were you making this so difficult for yourself?

“No, that’s usually what happens when two people are in love with each other.”

You freeze again but don’t look at her this time. Just thinking. Were you in love with him? The memory of your almost kiss flashes through your mind. The soft expression on his face, the warmth in his hands, his subtle shyness as he was bringing his face to yours, the fact that at that moment you really wanted him to kiss you. And you were sober, stone-cold sober. Nope nope nope. You shake those thoughts out of your head.

“Insanity” is all you say as you continue pacing. Your friend just sighs, shaking her head as she watches you. She does stop you eventually.

“Okay how about you go get some training in to take your mind off it, yeah? You’re going to drive yourself actually insane and me also with all this pacing back and forth.”

“Yeah alright, great idea. I’m gonna punch some shit.” You say immediately making your way to the door. Once you leave, Kurenai just sighs, you were hopeless truly but what is she to do?

The dummy targets you set up didn’t stand a chance as you started throwing punches at them. There was too much adrenaline going through you currently to not destroy them into tiny fragments with just one hit. Your thoughts are racing as you punch your way through the setup. Kakashi was in love with you. Punch. You think you may also be in love with him. Punch. This felt like a mistake. Kick. Each thought was accompanied by a strike to a dummy.

Amid your thought process, you feel someone sneaking up on you. On reflex, you appear behind them with a kunai to their neck. Realizing who it was, you immediately relaxed and let them go. It was Sasuke.

“What are you doing baby Uchiha? I could have killed you.”

“Glad to see you’re not rusty” He comments rubbing at his throat, there is a small cut there now. Not enough to bleed but it stings. Your hands move to your hips at his deflection, mildly annoyed at his presence during your session.

“What are you doing here Sasuke? It’s late and we have a mission tomorrow.” You scold him. His hands are in pockets not directly looking at you.

“Do you like Kakashi sensei?” He asks and you're taken aback, there is absolutely no reason he should have asked you that.

“You’ve been really nosy today. Off brand” You joke to deflect his accusatory question.

“I went to your house to see if you could train me today since training was canceled.” He begins, face growing red as he speaks. “So, I thought you may be visiting your sister and was going to ask if you could after you were done.”

You stand there confused for a moment as he speaks and then the realization starts to hit you. Why did you choose to have that conversation with that man in such a public place you do not know? You weren’t thinking at the time, and it didn’t seem as if anyone was actually around especially not caring about the conversation the two of you were having. Or so you thought. You attempt to keep your composure, realizing exactly where this conversation is headed.

“I saw you two.”

“And we were just talking. That’s what friends do, kid.” You say ruffling his hair hoping that’s all he saw.

“Yeah but then I saw him try to kiss you and then you dis – “Your hand cuts him off, slamming it against his mouth to get him to stop talking.

“What is up with you and being so damn nosy baby Uchiha.” You say as you choose to not remove your hand from his mouth. In response, he licks your hand once you don’t remove it forcing you to remove your hand from his mouth. Your face scrunches up in disgust at the action.

“That was disgusting and childish. You’ve been hanging out with Naruto too much.” You wipe your hand off on the grass.

“Don’t compare me to that loser.” He huffs at you.

“Then don’t do shit like that kid”

“You’re trying to ignore what I said I saw” He counters. You sigh, squeezing the bridge of your nose between your fingers, wishing he would just drop the topic.

“Why does it even matter? Especially to you.” You ask exasperated.

“Because I care about you, you’re basically the only family I have left and then you left for two years only visiting on the occasion. Kakashi sensei really helped me out a lot while you were gone. You don’t know how much I missed you.” He confesses, his fists are balled up at his side in tension.

“Oh Sasuke” you say before pulling him into a hug. “I’m sorry” He barely reciprocates your hug, fist still balled, stiff in your arms. It takes a few moments before his body relaxes into you, taking comfort in the warmth he hasn’t felt in what felt like forever.

“Stop this is embarrassing” He complains pushing you away, once he realizes how much he was enjoying the hug “It’s just after seeing that it just kind of made sense. The way you two look at each other. Ya know. I just thought you would be happier. I want you both to be happy.”

Sasuke was never one to directly tell you how he felt, he was more of an action kind of kid. He always wanted to maintain that brooding personality as if nothing phased him

You sigh, giving him a soft smile, “Thank you for caring about my happiness. That means a lot coming for you Sasuke. It really does.” You pause before continuing, “But it's all just really complicated at this point.”

He scoffs at your response, “Seems simple to me”

“If only it were.” You sigh again, placing your hand on the top of his head. He was so thoughtful, he really reminded you a lot of his brother. The good parts of him, of course. “Come on, it's late. You can stay at my place tonight like when you were just a little baby boy” you tease pinching his cheeks. He hits your hand grumbling but agrees to join you. Maybe Sasuke was right. Maybe it was all that easy. You just didn’t really know how you felt, it was all too much to think about. So many years of unanswered questions, pushed back feelings, all so much. At your house, you set him up on the couch, making him a hot chocolate like old times. Times when things were so much simpler.

The next morning, you wake Sasuke up and he is not too pleased, he’s always been like this, and it brings a gentle smile to your face because he’s still that same kid not at all a morning person. He complained the whole time saying that being early is not being on time, it's just being early. It took some effort to drag him out of your house. Once you finally get to the meet-up spot, he finds a spot under a tree to take a nap before everyone is expected to arrive, he is exhausted. You take a seat next to him and sharpen your swords, this should have been something you did yesterday, but you were a bit distracted for obvious reasons. Eventually, Naruto and Sakura show up, perfectly on time which Naruto surprises you.

“Why is Sasuke-Kun sleeping?” Sakura asks concern written all over her face.

“Oh. I just knocked him out before y’all got here” you say casually trying not to laugh as her jaw drops and she screams waking up the boy next to you.

“OMG SASUKE YOU’RE OKAY” Sakura screams, obviously irritating Sasuke more. Which just makes you fight another giggle that was threatening to escape your lips “y/n sensei said she knocked you out before we got here!”

“Yeah!” Naruto chimes in just as loud.

“No, she didn’t you idiots, I was just tired because she decided to wake me up so early for us to be here.” He complains staring daggers at you which you just laugh off.

“HAHA, y/n sensei had to go to your house to wake you up” Naruto teases.

“Oh no, he stayed the night last night.” You say casually and Naruto’s jaw drops, and Sakura falls backward in complete shock at the thought of what could have been going on in your house with just you and Sasuke last night.

“Why does Sasuke get to spend the night at your house and not me? “Naruto whines.

“Because she doesn’t like you, loser” Sasuke replies as he takes a stand, stretching out from his short nap.

“That’s not true. Be nice.” You say putting your swords up, “It was just circumstantial, and he used to spend the night all the time when he was little.” You ruffle Naruto’s hair.

“Well, next time I’m coming.” Naruto declares.

“Absolutely not” Sasuke argues back as they continue to debate over who can and can’t stay at your own house.

You just laugh and check on Sakura, who was just sitting there in a daze what could possibly be going through her head, “You good?”

“yes, I was just having thoughts,” She says with a glazed expression. You were afraid to ask what her thoughts were. Sasuke and Naruto continue to argue about who was allowed to stay at your house or not and you couldn’t help but laugh at them. It was music to Kakashi’s ears as he walked up on the scene, he loved hearing you laugh. You feel his presence behind you, automatically turning to face him mid laughter and his step falters a bit. Now that he’s admitted to you and himself that he was in love with you, everything you did was magical and breathtaking. He was allowing himself to feel for you openly and it was as if he was seeing you for the first time.

“Nice for you to arrive” You gently smile at him, trying your best to act as normally as possible but looking at him made your heart start to race.

One of his arms goes to the back of his head, as he makes that cocky smile he always does when he’s late “Sorry had to help a cat get out of a tree.”

“You’re a liar Kakashi sensei” Sakura states pointing at him, which he just chuckles at amused.

When the group is ready to leave, the kids lead the way. Kakashi walks next to you, keeping your slower pace. You had never been on a mission with a Team before that wasn’t as equally capable as you, you didn’t want anything to happen to team 7, so you were keeping on high alert. You haven’t seen them in actual combat, so you just wanted to keep focused in case anything happened. Kakashi could tell you were tense, watching your eyes scan the surroundings. This was exactly how you acted on your first mission with him, expecting the worst to happen at a moment's notice. Serious. Quiet. Focused.

“We don’t have anything to worry about on the way there. It’s not like we are escorting documents. It’ll be fine. They’re capable. I’ve trained them. You’ve trained them” He comments hoping to ease some of your worry and your stance relaxes a bit at the thought.

“Sorry,” You mutter, attempting to take some of your guard down despite it being so second nature.

“No problem, I remember when you used to get like this during our first missions when we were young.”

“We? I’m still young. You’re the old one” you point out. He scoffs at you.

“you’re the one who keeps calling them kids.”

“They are kids, I’m just an older kid” you laugh when he shoves into you. You and Kakashi lock eyes for a moment, his gaze softening as he looks at your face.

“Glad you’re here,” he says gaze still locked on yours, soft, loving which makes you immediately break eye contact, feeling your body heating up from the subtle intimacy.

“Well ya know I have a mission to complete, and I have an impeccable record to keep up. Never missed or failed a mission.” You’re trying to stay casual as you twirl a kunai under your finger, ignoring the way your breath is hitching and your heart is beating.

“Yeah, you are perfect.” He states plainly, hands in his pockets. The statement makes you trip over your own feet, “Careful” he teases enjoying the way he was starting to affect you and you just scowl at him not appreciating him trying to mess with you.

Up ahead of y’all, Sakura leans slower to Sasuke and whispers “Did Kakashi sensei take this mission just to flirt with y/n sensei?”

Sasuke looks back to see you trying to hold in laughter, hitting his other sensei playfully.

He shrugs as if the sight doesn’t make him happy, “Seems so I guess, I don’t know or care.”

“But I thought you two were close,” Sakura says confused at his nonchalant attitude.

“Yeah, like a sister and the last thing I care about is her love life,” he says before taking a glance back at you and Kakashi, you are both smiling and laughing at each other as you walk.

“Well, I think they would make a cute couple,” Sakura says

“Wait, y/n sensei and Kakashi sensei are dating?” Naruto says louder than the group wants him to.

“Stop being so loud!” Sakura yells as she hits him in the head. He yelps in pain.

That sound immediately catches your attention, and your hand instinctively goes to your blades then settle as you see they’re just arguing with each other.

“It gets easier” Kakashi mentions at your defensiveness, his instincts since long settled from being so reactionary.

“Oh? You’re inviting on more missions with your team?” You ask coyly, trying to make a joke out of it.

“Absolutely but you know if you ever get your own team.” He says earnestly. You thought about it before shaking your head.

“Nah, I think I’ll leave that responsibility to you.”

“You would be good at it though. You’re good at it now.” He replies as he fixes his gaze on you. The look in his eye you knew he meant it which made you even more flustered.

Time to deflect how you’re feeling, “I don’t think so. I’m more of the lone WOLF type. Ya know”

“Now who’s the comedian” he snorts.

The rest of the way to the village was nice, team 7 arguing about whatever is in front of you two as you talk casually, laughing and joking. It was nice, it felt normal, like old times, once there, you need to find lodging for the night, so you go to the nearest inn.

“Oh, I’m sorry, we are basically all booked for the night due to the festival. We only have two rooms.” The innkeeper says to you as you asked for three rooms. Before you could even make a comment Sasuke interjects.

“That should be fine right? The three of us in one room and the sensei’s in another room.” He says casually, yet he knew exactly what he was doing. You couldn’t even get out a glare before Sakura jumped for joy agreeing. And then, still unable to speak, the innkeeper starts.

“Oh, that’s wonderful I’m glad we can accommodate you.” She says as she leaves to get the keys. If looks could kill, Sasuke would be dead twice. You wrap your arm around Sasuke's shoulder in a playful manner bending down to whisper in his ear.

“I’m going to kill you” you whisper in his ear.

“I have no clue what you’re talking about,” he says as he removes your arm from his shoulder. The damn brat, you were going to choke him later for this. You take a step back while the lady gets the keys to your rooms.

“Is this okay with you?” Kakashi asks just into your ear, sending shivers down your spine

“it’s fine” You say not even turning to him because yeah sharing a room with the man who is in love with you that you may or may not be in love with is totally just fine with you. “It’ll be like old times” you attempt to be nonchalant about it but then remember what happened the last time you shared a room. Fuck.

“As long as its good with you” He says before reaching and taking the key from the lady. It was late so you wished the team a good night, which means it was time for the actual mission. Your mind solely focused on the mission, so focused you didn’t even realize that you were changing right in front of Kakashi before you were already dressed.

“What?”You ask as you can feel his stare on you as you pull your mask from your bag, turning to then realize you just were ass naked in front of him. “I’m sorry” you blurt out almost instantly when the thought came to your head. “I wasn’t even thinking. Just was trying to get ready”

“oh no no no no” He begins waving his hand in front of him, “I wasn’t even looking or anything. Just –“ He states trying to think of something that made sense “Haven’t seen you in your anbu gear in so long, brings back memories.”

Your brain decides to believe him even though a part of you doesn’t, you give him a small smile. “It does bring back memories huh?” You say as you place your ask on the side of your head, the rabbit side eyeing him. “Wanna make a bet?” You ask playfully.

He smirks back at you, forgetting the awkwardness that just occurred “ what are we waging?”

“Hmmn, whoever wins gets the bed” you state, proud of your answer. It was very much like old times. You slide your mask down over your face, “Deal?”

He does the same, extending a hand for you to shake, “Deal”

The bet was simple, whoever gets to the scroll first wins. People think because you’re going in as a team that it’s best to stick together but that’s not the case. Especially a stealth mission, cause if someone gets cause the other person has the opportunity to finish the mission. So, the both of you separated, he went from the back and you went from the front. You weaved through the corridors, it was surprisingly quiet. This made your suspicious on high, you couldn’t even feel any chakra around you. Once you peak around the corner, you see exactly why there was no one the room was sealed. Luckily, unsealing was a specialty of yours but there were so many seals it was going to be annoying. Eventually you completed all of the seals with no sign of Kakashi, you were going to win this bet. Or so you thought until you say the white haired bastard coming through the window of the room.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me” you huff in defeat. Luckily, you couldn’t see the smug smile that Kakashi had on his face as you threw a mini tantrum. “You were just waiting for me to unseal the room weren’t you?”

“Oh the room was sealed?” He asked in mock surprise, which made your scrunch up your face in a pout under your mask. “It does seem you’ve lost your touch, it used to take you far less time to unseal a room.” If only he could see you roll your eyes but he could see you flip him off.

It was no work finding the scroll after that. But now what about the bet?

No winner. A tie between the two of you since technically you both did reach the scroll at the same time regardless of him using your own skills to his advance. Now here you were back in the room with no compromise of sleeping arrangements. With that thought in your head you rush to the bathroom to shower first. You made sure to scrub your body throughly it’s not like you were planning on doing anything tonight. You were definitely not doing anything tonight but you didn’t want to stink of anything. Your brain was doing its best to relax itself as you finished your shower and slipped into your pajamas. Thank the heavens that you actually brought real pajamas instead of the oversized shirts that you usually wear. Kakashi went in right after you, not waiting for any conversation on sleeping arrangements.

As you waited for him to exit the bathroom, you couldn’t help but fiddle with your weapons, it was a nervous habit you had. It happened on the way there and it was even worse now, your nerves unsteady with what the night could entail. You felt like a damn teenager with your first boyfriend, it shouldn’t be this nerve wrecking. It was just sleeping in the same bed with him, nothing more than that. Well yeah, tell that to your stupid heart that was beating so fast and loudly in your ears that you just knew it could be heard from outside your chest.

Once he came out of the bathroom, he noticed your frazzled state, a wave of concern came over him. He could only guess what has got you in this state, sharing a bed with him but he didn’t know what to say, he didn’t know where your head was at.

“You alright?” His voice held such a soft tone of concern for you, yet and still your head snapped up at the sound of his voice. Your hands immediately stop fiddling with your weapons, the look on Kakashi face was of concern. He didn’t have his mask on and his visible frown took you back for a moment. You used to see his face all the time but it’s never held such a softness and concern for you as it did right now and if it did before your brain couldn’t think of a time to remember.

“Yeah yeah, I’m fine, I just guess….” You begin before looking away from him, “since no one won the bed, we just have to share the bed.” You’re hoping your voice sounds as strong as possible but you know it doesn’t. Kakashi doesn’t think he’s every heard you speak so nervously.

“Are you fine with that?” He asks hesitatingly, you looked like you were going to run back to Konaha at any moment. “I can just sleep on the couch, it’s fine. It’s not like I haven’t slept in worse places.”

“No, really it’s fine. Neither of us should be sleeping on the couch when there’s a bed available.” You say with a shrug. The cot that should have gone to your room, you had to give it up to the kids since it only had two beds. You quickly lay in the bed before you could change your mind, pulling the covers over you. Kakashi carefully gets in the other side, back towards yours. There’s a comfortable silence between y’all, that you feel the need to break.

“I missed going on missions with you, that was too easy” You say not bothering turning around to face him while you speak.

“it wasn’t that easy because you didn’t beat me” He teases which makes you turn over to face his back poking it.

“First of all, we were in and out. But if I brought up the fact that you had less obstacles than me, you’d be sleeping on the floor. I’m literally the one who unsealed the room!”

He turns to you when you poke him again after his statemen, a small smile gracing his face as you pout at him.

“I missed this. I missed you” He confesses and yet again your brain turns off. You hated this new characteristic of yours, every time he did something it just made your heart race and your thoughts jumble.

All you manage to get out was “Kashi”, your mouth not being able to form any other coherent words. Somehow you can see the way he’s looking at you even in the dark, you could FEEL the way he was looking at you. You want to disappear again, but you can’t, so you think of the second-best thing.

“I think I’m tired.” You abruptly say before turning over hiding your face. Kakashi sighs inwardly realizing he may have pushed a little too far too soon with you, you weren’t rejecting him, you weren’t pushing him away but you were trying to run, run from your feelings, run from him. Maybe your sister was right about you after all.

It took everything in you to force yourself to go to sleep, you could at least escape this situation in your dreams. In the midst of your sleep, you woke up briefly to get yourself rejected in bed. There’s a warmth underneath you that is trying to bring you back into your deep sleeps. Slowly though, you realize what’s going on lland the position you were in as you raise your head out of sleep. It took all your strength to not immediately jump out of the bed, you take in your own form, your arm and leg were thrown over Kakashi as his arm held onto your back in a cuddling manner. You thought about moving off of him, out of his grip, until you saw. His face. He was much like you in the way that he was always on alert for something but the look he had on his features right now was one of pure relaxation. He was relaxed and you realized that you had been relaxed too. What would be the harm in staying in this position, you would be the only one who knew that you knew. You could enjoy this secret for yourself, you think as you lay your head back on his chest snuggling in. Soon enough, you were peacefully back to sleep but little did you know that in your moments of contemplation Kakashi in fact did wake up. He studied your face through half open eyes as he could see a discussion in your head until laying back down into him. Kakashi couldn’t be more at peace as he felt you snuggle in all your consciousness back into him.

taglist: @smarsd @ferretsqueen @yellowflashof-theleaf

#smut #angst #kakashi x reader #kakashi x you #kakashi smut #kakashi fanfiction #kakashi sensei #kakashi hatake #friends to enemies #friends to lovers #friends to more #team 7 naruto #naruto fanfiction #childhood best friends to lovers

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pauking5 · 7 months ago

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Runaway 🏎️ Chapter 1

Pairing: Naozumi Hiyama x fem reader oc

Synopsis: There's no place for women in the world of racing. Let alone rally. Until you show up - the daughter of a racing legend who lost everything out of nowhere - ready to stir the pot of competition and throw fuel to Naozumi's fire, burning wild in more than just one way. Just how far will you go to take your rightful place in the world of rally, restore the team to its glory and change things for the better?

Genre: racing AU, enemies to lovers, rivalry, suspense, a whole lot of teasing, gender power games, dating in secret

Word count: 4.5k+

A/N: Here it finally is. I can't believe I got to write about one of my passions in this way. Though I love rally, getting the technicalities right was rough but I researched as much as I could on it so it feels like the real thing, though there might be some minor inaccuracies, not really affecting the story.

This one has been in the works for a good period of time and though this first chapter is short and fast-paced, there's so much more coming. Trust the process cause god knows I do. I hope I can make Naozumi justice and I can't wait for you to read the next ones. Enjoy lovelies.

Now Playing: Edge of Seventeen - Wuki

Next Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5

It's not about how fast you go.

It's about how long you go fast.

Fast like-

A knock reverberated against your helmet, interrupting the pre-race mantra before you even finished reciting it, bringing you back to the chaos prior to the race start.

Chaos you wanted to avoid at all costs.

Blinking your eyes open, you took in the smell of burnt rubber and the atmosphere, fully packed with the deafening roars of the crowds in the stands soaring over the music heard all the way to your station. Another voice joined in the noise, demanding your attention.

"Raiko, are you ready?"

Letting out an exasperated breath, you waved off whoever spoke to you and closed your eyes again.

"Give me a minute, will you?"

Okay, where was I?

It's not about how fast you go-

A drilling noise came from your right, annoying the living daylights out of you.

Ah, fuck it. Since we keep getting interrupted...

How about I tell you a little bit about me.

Name's Raiko Suruki.

Yes, that Suruki. Here we go again.

I'm the daughter of the famed Hiro Suruki, five times Japan World Rally Championship winner, consecutively if I may add.

Proud podium sitter for thousands of times.

Also kind of a living legend of the primetime of the rally world.

The same Hiro Suruki that started one of the best teams in the history of Japanese rally, snatching six more titles under his directory. WRC'S Golden Boy.

After his personal fifth title, he decided he wanted something more. Something that would fulfill him, beside his love for driving at the most insane speeds known to man and having his first and only child - that's me, in case you didn't know.

Anyway, without any second thoughts or doubts, he retired from the sport out of nowhere, changing the fireproofs for the laid-back team principal shirt and a cheap very 'dad' baseball cap. At barely 35 years of age, he took the biggest leap of faith of his life and Suruki Racing was born out of fuel and passion for rally.

He poured everything he had into the team and built it from scratch, taking it so high in his prime that everyone wanted a piece of it. Be it driving in a seat for the team, changing parts as a mechanic or simply having shares in it.

It was basically the shit. The pinnacle of rally in the whole of Japan.

The team became a national sensation. So many influential people, from mere businessmen to politicians, even foreigners were so interested in it and helping it expand. It genuinely felt like the only way for him was up, flying like a rocket towards the legends' hall of fame.

It went like that for a while. He was beaming with happiness, unable to understand where all that luck came from. But like everything good, it didn't last. Once he started to question it all, it was like a switch flipped inwards and it all fell to ruins.

Everything started going wrong.

All of a sudden, the cars started missing parts the night before races. They had engine failures mid-race in almost every stage, followed by DNF's on every scoreboard.

And those aren't even the most shocking things that happened. You name the disaster and it definitely happened to Suruki Racing at one point. Disastrous, life-changing, career-ending type of things.

The mess piled up more and more and it showed despite dad's efforts to stay afloat.

Contract deals with sponsors started falling through, losing funding for a lot of parts and investments in equipment. Then the drivers got fed up with the constant failed races and blamed the car or the team if they felt like it. They terminated their contracts way before their terms were up under the pretense that they wanted different things... which were not related to Suruki Racing. The mechanics chose to stay, well, a few of them anyways, but it wasn't enough.

The team ripped at the seams and slowly but surely ran into the ground and dad couldn't find at least one reason why it happened.

It was like a curse you couldn't get rid of and I saw it happen first-hand.

The late nights he would spend in the garage trying new parts that kept failing with every test on the car. The way he would go as low as begging the drivers to come back offering them money he didn't have because no driver, rookie or experienced, didn't even bat an eye once the name of the team was mentioned.

Lost, penniless and with a heavy heart, he had to watch the one thing he loved the most on earth rust little by little, no matter what he would do to prevent it.

Mom called it karma for his reckless racing days because as talented as he was, the road forgives no one. That you can be God's favourite and still lose everything. And he didn't want to understand that. He never did.

I was too young to help back then. Too young to understand what Suruki Racing meant to him. Too young to do the only thing I could to save it.

Until now.

So, let's try that again, shall we?

Name's Rai Suruki, driver for Suruki Racing 2.0.

Another knock to your helmet, echoing in your head louder than the first, brought you back to the real world for good this time. Mechanics rushed around you to finish the set up on the car before you were called up to take your spot in front of the race marshal, which from a quick glance at the scoreboard would be soon.

Looking to your left, you were met with a set of dull brown eyes, messy jet black hair, a funky moustache and an extremely creased forehead for his middle age, all belonging to your co-driver, Don Tanaka. He's another legend of the sport.

Former training coach for some of the current biggest teams in the WRC, with a CV of experiences surpassing most people that have been in rally for longer. On top of all that, he is an even bigger friend of your father's. When he called him up asking for an old favour to train you, he couldn't say no.

But if it was up to commenting, you'd say he was one of the biggest fools for giving up a lavish salary with so many perks for one favour, especially for your old fart of a father.

Driving with him was great, but training with him was hell on Earth.

"I was doing my mantra," you reasoned, trying to get him off your case.

"Your mantra sucks."

He is an absolute joy to be around, isn't he?

"Well," you turned to him in your seat with a tight-lipped smile, "you're the one choosing to be co-driver to a young adult at your ripe age of 40. If I was you I would've picked something more calming, like gardening."

Bringing his hand to his chin in thinking, he sat in silence for a moment before he spoke.

"That doesn't sound so bad right now," he went on trying to push your buttons.

"Oh, shush," you waved him off, turning back to the wheel.

If there was one thing he liked doing, it was keeping you in check by poking fun at you. He was like that one uncle you could always go to with your secrets or to ask for extra pocket money, but in return he liked to tease the fuck out of you for it. Every. Single. Time.

As much as you hated his antics, you did kind of owe him a lot. He was the one who caught your talent for racing early on, back when you would drive plastic mini cars made from scraps around the team garage like you had years of experience. A few drifting maneuvers around old tires done like a pro at the cool age of 8, and he was sold on you and your potential.

Amongst all the teasing and the pain of having to train like a man, you've spent enough time with him to know you could count on him for literally anything. He was the best co-driver you could ask for and you wouldn't want anyone else in that seat directing your fate for the world.

He knew what it took to annoy you greatly in order to deliver on the dirt track and prove yourself. Especially now, since you were the only woman on highly occupied male territory.

Racing is a man's world. With as many female advancements in motorsport as there were today, the majority of the community was still not convinced that a woman could drive better than a man or even compete alongside a whole grid of their species. They can regard you, acknowledge your existence, but they would never accept you.

Your father knew your entry to the championship would stir up a lot of unwanted attention, besides the fact that he was basically reviving a cursed team and you happened to be the poster face for it this time around. It sounded like a catastrophe in the making.

Frankly, you were ecstatic to get to drive an actual race car outside of the junior series and helping the team get back to its rightful place, restoring its deserved glory. But you knew it wasn't going to be easy work. Especially, since public enemy number one - the press - was going to try and tear you to sparkly shreds for a lot of reasons. An attack that they started before any official information was out.

A few months ago, when the announcement of Suruki Racing's comeback after ten years of inactivity hit the WRC, the media had a field day with it.

They criticized your father for being a nutjob that didn't know when to quit. They smeared Don Tanaka's name like he didn't make most of the drivers currently selling their dying papers. They even tried to get paid scoops from anyone involved with the team in the slightest.

But the team had one wildcard left to play before pulling the curtains for good and giving them the satisfaction that they ruined it.

You.

The press didn't know about you. No one in the other teams knew about you. Thanks to your father's extremely private life, no one even knew of your existence.

The only people that did were your team in the garage, from the mechanics to your PR agent.

Even walking into the circuit grounds this morning, long hair down over your shoulders, sporting the team gear in plain sight, no one batted an eye at you. Even if they did, they would think you were involved with technical or marketing - though even that was a rarity in this universe - or worse, just another groupie looking to get one of the drivers under your hood.

Your father wanted to give everyone a show they'll never forget by having you drive the first race in the calendar without a proper introduction. No car reveal. No interviews. No pre-race press conference. Just a car and its driver.

This way they would judge your driving before they actually got to judge you for being a woman at the wheel of a three hundred horsepower beast. He trusted you and your judgement on the track far more than the lousy press setting you up for fail. They would get a proper car show and speech after the race anyway.

It was out of the ordinary but that kinda summed up Hiro Suruki and his bipolar personality.

The distorted sound of a megaphone, followed by the voice of the race marshal called you to the start line.

"Car 7, Rai Suruki for Suruki Racing, you're up next!"

You could already see everyone turning their eyes to your station, booming cheers going quiet, turning into sharp murmurs.

Time to get this show going.

Rolling up your windows to block the world, you put the car in gear and drove to the start line, waiting for the green light. Looking out at the lines in the road ahead of you spotting the first hazard ahead, the nerves climbed up your spine faster than your engine could pump the pistons for pressure.

You prepared for this for most of your life, but if you were being honest, it all got a little too real now, sitting with your foot hovering above the gas pedal ahead of the moment that could make or break your career before it even started. The very moment that could be a step forward to restoring your father's name, getting the team back on track in a new age of rally racing. The moment for a change.

No pressure, right?

"Raiko," your co-driver called your name, but you couldn't tear your eyes away from the road, gloved fingers tightening on top of the wheel with a small snap. "Do you remember the course?"

"Yes."

"Good. All set?"

"I think so."

"Raiko, look at me."

"You're not my style."

"Raiko," his voice turned more serious and deep with warning. With another sigh into the small, cramped space for breathing your helmet provided, you turned to him.

"You've got this. Let's prove everyone wrong."

He was right.

Let's prove everyone wrong.

The race marshal started the countdown, walking from the front of your car to the side, each number in the count descending with your nerves. You loosened the hold on the wheel, stretched your legs to the pedals and let out a deep breath.

"3."

It's not about how fast you go.

"2."

It's about how long you go fast.

"1."

Fast like lightning.

"GO!"

A soon as the lights went green, you hit the throttle and took off into the dirt, raising the dust behind you. You skidded off to the side a little due to the gravel but you got control of it before anyone could notice.

Tokai was a pretty difficult course to rally depending on which stages got picked for the day. More forest terrain gave way to hard roads, receding in wheel control, gaining insane suspension pressure. This one was more of an open valley terrain, which was a bit safer, but the later you got the okay to race, the more dust and gravel from other drivers would pile up in front of you, making visibility dangerously low. The corners were way too tight and one second off from Tanaka's directions or a mishap of your footing could cost you and put your car on the sidelines.

"5 left over crest," Tanaka paced you for the upcoming hill and you prepared to release the throttle.

"1 left 100."

Wheels back on the ground, you resumed pressing the pedal as a hairpin portion came into view. The cloud of dust in front of you was chalky and you had to get through it before it raised higher. Putting the car in second gear, you got ready for the drift portion.

You had to be extra careful here. The mechanic in chief told you to go easy as the rear could send you into oversteer, throwing off the balance of the car and fuck up the race completely.

Listening to your gut, you waited for the right time then tapped the brake, cut the wheels and pressed the throttle, sliding across the portion. Loud cheers and whistles erupted as the crowd in the stands got up to watch you complete a perfect drift.

"3 right don't cut."

Reduce pace and prepare for a possible road hazard.

You slowed down and sure enough a bump in the road came up. If you missed that one and took it at 120 kmph, it would've projected you off the track, crashing the car hard into the rocky wall like a cereal box. Thankfully, you swerved around it, feeling the car lift off the ground on the left for a bit before it fell back down.

"6 right very long."

Hard left into a tight corner.

"Cut 8 left."

Tight corner requiring you to follow a straight line in the curb.

This was the last and worst corner on the track. You were lucky it didn't rain because this is where your car can skid off into the stands. You caught the straight line pretty fast, cutting a few seconds off your lap time without slowing down.

Following the rest of Tanaka's directions and focusing on the rest of the road, the race finished before you knew it. You liked the state you were in as you drove, mind clear of everything else because as soon as the adrenaline in your body decreased, your brain got bombarded by all kinds of issues.

Did I push the new suspensions too hard? God, I hope I didn't scratch the rear in the hairpin. Was my timing too off on that last corner? I should've practiced it more.

Driving back to your team's station, you sent all those worries at the back of your head and got out to watch the screen showing the score board just as it updated to display the new track times since you were the last to go.

1. Akira Shinkai - Sigma Racing Academy - 1.23.40

2. Naozumi Hiyama - Spica Racing Factory - 1.23.59

3. Rai Suruki - Suruki Racing - 1.24.25

"WE BAGGED THIRD PLACE?!" you yelled throwing off your helmet onto the car seat.

"WE SURE DID," Tanaka high fived you, beaming with energy just like you.

"That's 15 points on the first stage! Well done, lightning strike," he ruffled your hair as you snickered, nose scrunching up with a smile at the gesture you were already accustomed to.

"The car held up a lot better today than in testing. Maybe we lifted the curse," you wiggled your eyebrows at him at which he flicked your forehead. "Ow, what did you do that for?"

"Don't jinx it. We still have two more stages to go."

"But-"

Before you could say anything else, you were interrupted by angry shouting coming from the station next to you.

"I told you to not touch the third gear," yelled a strained voice.

You walked to the side of your station, peeking your head by the team banner, and watched the heated exchange between one of the drivers and his mechanic. Your eyes wandered to the car sitting in the middle, not one hand touching it for the regular post-race check up. From the different strokes of sky blue layered over stark white, the red and blue sponsor stickers and the carbon spoiler, you recognized it to be Spica Racing's.

"It doesn't matter now," shouted another voice, so annoyed and sure of themselves as if they owned the place. "I got a good lap record this time."

"What would you do if you had to retire in the middle of the race?" shot the mechanic, chastising the driver for being careless.

He got up in his face, towering over him though the other was much taller than him.

"We won't win if I don't attack!" he yelled back, throwing his hand in the air to make a point. "The moment I think of being scared I will lose. I won't make that mistake. So just do your job and fix the car."

With that final remark, he rounded the car to walk away from the station until he noticed you in the corner, now standing in full sight just at the line between your stations.

Quickly replacing the scowl on his face with what was probably his natural smirk, he came to you, stopping short of the barrier separating you.

"I don't do autographs, but for you I can do more than that," he added a daring wink, flashing his cocky smile at you.

Ew.

Taking a small step back hoping his vibes wouldn't envelop you, you uncrossed your arms from your chest and lifted an eyebrow at him.

"I don't want your autograph."

Taken aback at your response, he backed up slightly too and looked you up and down, taking in your deep blue and dark gold team fireproofs and the suit tied messily around your waist. The old, way out of fashion colours seemed to ring a bell.

"Suruki Racing...," he started doubtful, "the shithole that revived from the ashes? Are you a mechanic, a co-driver or something for them? If you are, why don't you jump ships? I wouldn't mind having you on my team instead," he finished his speech of intent with another shit-eating grin.

Who the fuck was this guy?

The audacity that wafted off him must definitely make him popular with the ladies.

"I don't think we've met before," you extended your hand out to him, curt and polite, like a normal person would do, introducing yourself.

"Rai Suruki, driver for Suruki Racing," emphasizing your role in the team so he got it through his head that you weren't some bimbo.

If you were, you'd make sure your fist decorated his face in pretty red tones before anything else.

He straightened back, smirk gone from his face in all sense of the word. It got replaced by some kind of curiosity. Looking between you and your palm hanging in the air he looked confused to say the least. He's heard about female racers before and seen some working in technical around the place, he's just never seen one stand against him on track.

Tired of being polite to someone who obviously has never heard about manners, you were about to retract your extended hand when he caught it in a firm grip and pulled it towards him, just holding it instead of shaking it. The move sent you forwards, almost barreling into him when your reaction response kicked in to steel you a safe distance away.

Maybe Tanaka's intense survival program pays off sometimes.

"So," he began and you wondered if he was about to say something intelligent or spew more shit with that mouth of his. He decided to choose the latter. "You're the one driving the Beetle dupe right there?"

Eh, come again?

Your eyes widened at him, looking at where his finger was pointed to confirm that he was pointing at your car and not anywhere else, then you whirled your head back at him appalled.

"B-Beetle dupe?!"

"I thought you were a guy."

Wouldn't be the first time I heard that one.

You took your hand back from his hold, wiping it on the sleeves of the suit hanging on your hips in the hopes that it would wipe off the disgust you were feeling too. It didn't but it was worth a try.

"It's the name," you replied through gritted teeth.

He backed up some more to scan you again, though more attentively this time, like you were some kind of illegality, cooked up from the pits of his imagination. You gave him your best front, hardening your jaw and rolling your shoulders backwards, proving you were more than a pair of boobs and a vagina, which was apparently his deranged first impression of you.

You deserved to be here. No amount of stares from the male specimen, surprised or with sinful intentions, could ever make you back down from this. This was yours to take on. No man could take this from you. Not him anyway.

So, you stared him down too, trying to find something else beside the extreme big dick energy and unsurmountable lack of scruples surrounding him. Struggling to see anything else but some disdain in the way he crossed his arms over his broad chest, a rich prick attitude from how he shifted on his legs like the world owed him golden lingos every time he breathed, and some leftover rage from the screaming match with his mechanic still present in the tick of his jaw, you let your eyes meet his own in conclusion of your very own analysis.

Yeah, there's nothing else in there. An ambulant douchebag. Just like I thought.

Flashing cameras were suddenly thrown in your faces, interrupting the intense stare-down between you. The press and some people, potentially fans of other teams by their t-shirts, surrounded you from every corner of the plastic barrier around the two stations, pushing each other over the race marshals that tried their hardest to keep them away. It wasn't long until they pushed over the barrier.

Too absorbed in the chaos, you didn't notice he leaned down to your ear but when you did, you stilled in your shoes, all blood draining into your pounding stomach. He spoke close and low, so only you could hear his words.

"Don't get too comfortable around here, rookie," he whispered, hot breath hitting the shell of your ear making shivers run down your extremely clothed spine. "Let's see how long you last in here because this season might just be your first and last."

Pulling away with another one of his smirks that were starting to get on your nerves, he regarded you once more before he walked off in amusement to his cool-down room, giving you a full view of his broad back.

Oh, just you wait -

A reporter shoved into the human barrier of orange and green safety vests reaching the railing, yanking it back and forth repeatedly until the poor plastic seal broke off, letting everyone else pool in around you.

Uh-oh. This wasn't good.

They packed around you like wolves on their prey, all shouting different things at you while shoving their big cameras, recording devices and phones in your face. The flashes blinded you, turning the world white and too bright for it to be natural light from the clouded sky above.

Your hands shot up on instinct to cover your eyes from the flaring lights as your ears focused on filtering through the blaring sounds of camera clicks and voices. Then the countless questions registered clear as day, hitting you like a truck at full speed.

"Are you Rai Suruki, daughter of Hiro Suruki?"

"Where did your father get the money to restart the team?"

"Is your car even going to last a season?"

"Do you consider yourself a challenge to the rest of the drivers?"

I guess that was it for mystery, dad.

Some of the other teams passed by the ruckus, sparing quick judgmental glances or sending disgusting sneers your way like that was the way they initiated your welcome ceremony at the gates of the jungle.

If this was any other series, you would've been so welcomed by the rest of the grid and treated somewhat better by the media and the fans. But this was the World Rally Championships.

Driving was dirty.

Talk was filthy, full of disrespect and unspoken trials of envy between each driver.

The press competed to see who would get your head on a pike first and parade it as the story of the century.

Respect was fought for, not earned.

It was a different game. One where you needed to play even if you didn't want to so in turn you wouldn't get played. Survival of the fittest truly.

You steeled your gaze, waving the reporters off and digging a hole through the crowd, successfully escaping away to your pit crew. Helping with packing up bits and pieces and taking your own stuff, you headed back to your team quarters, aware of the intensifying stares belonging to the rest of the teams still around their stations, talking about the first day in this season's calendar being an interesting one.

You had a feeling you and the team were the hot topic of conversation since you could feel their eyes searing deep holes into your back, burning hotter and doing more damage than flame-lit arrows aimed straight at you ever could. Tanaka wrapped an arm around you giving you his curled moustache smile, sympathizing with you.

Looking up at the sky darkening in mauve and pink, you let a small smile grace your lips. At least today was done. Your rally racing career has officially started. The team was back in business.

However, this first stage was just one of the many challenges still to come. Who knew what else was on the way?

As you trudged on the warm asphalt, warmed by the mid-spring warmth of March, there was one thing you knew for sure.

This is gonna be a long season.

Thank you for reading :) As always leave a like, comment or reblog!

#Runaway #Naozumi Hiyama #Naozumi Hiyama x reader #Naozumi Hiyama x you #Overdrive x reader #Overdrive x you #racing au #Overdrive Mackenyu

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